


Gifts Unasked For

by tigerlady (shetiger)



Series: Gifts [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, First Time, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/pseuds/tigerlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Wraith capture Aiden Ford, the command of Atlantis gives him up as lost. But his teammates aren't convinced--they're willing to go the extra mile to get him back. (Written after The Siege pt 2, so goes AU from there.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifts Unasked For

The planet was like most of those seeded by the Ancients: green and fertile, Earth-like and perfect for human settlers.

The Ancients hadn't taken the Wraith into account, of course.

Aiden checked the database one last time, confirming that this planet was on the 'extinct–no viable food-source' list. It still weirded him out that he could just tap into that knowledge with a thought. The major must have felt that way with the Ancient technology, at first. Still, Aiden wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The planet was perfect for his base of operations. No people to get caught in the crossfire even if the Wraith came after him. The Stargate was in orbit, so nobody was likely to wander in without warning. Perfect for a one-man operation.

He set the ship down in a clearing near an isolated structure. He had to trudge through a short wooded area to get there, but that wasn't a hardship. Not anymore. The building itself wasn't much more than four stone walls and a chimney, thick beams crossing the open top. With a little work he'd have it livable in no time, cozy for when the cold season hit. His new strength should see him through the job easily enough.

He had a plan, he had a home, and he had a whole lot of new skills.

Aiden just wished he wasn't so damn lonely.

* * *

John rolled his shoulders against the tightness brought on by the unnatural quiet of the cabin, then checked the display once again as they settled into orbit. No ships, which was good, since ships usually meant Wraith. Though if Ford had wound up here, he had better have had a ship, or else their mission was over before it even began.

They'd been at this two days. Two long days of tracking down every rumor of Earth-style clothes or equipment. Two days of jumping from gate to gate, hoping against the odds that they weren't on a wild-goose chase. Two days of pervasive silence between them.

He glanced over at Rodney, busy studying the displays. Rodney had been just as quiet as he and Teyla, which didn't make John feel any better about this venture. Rodney hadn't said anything about probability or risk; John knew he'd go a long way for his friends. He sighed. At least McKay would have a position to return to back on Atlantis. He and Teyla would have a tougher time.

John checked flight data one more time, and then eased the jumper toward the planet.

"Here we go," he announced softly, and even that seemed too loud. He could feel Teyla's coiled tension in the seat behind him, power waiting for an opportunity to strike. The jumper felt the same; controlled power responding easily to his bidding, no desperate shaking as they entered the atmosphere, no gees to fight as they soared. Ford had asked him if he missed the sensation of fighting gravity and inertia, and he hadn't been able to explain it. Now he might not ever have the chance to try.

The view leveled out as he slowed their descent. The planet was the same old, same old: trees and green fields everywhere, rivers and small oceans breaking up the monotony.

"I'm getting an energy reading of some significance, directly ahead," Rodney said.

John nodded. "Any signs of life?"

"No discrete life signs, but evidence of civilization at some point in time. There's a structure not far from the energy readings."

John tried not to get his hopes up. "Any clue what that energy is?"

Rodney shrugged. "I don't think it's a ZPM, and wow, I think that's the first time I've ever been happy to say that."

John was inclined to agree. If it wasn't a ZPM, it might be residue from a ship's engine, which might be a friendly, which might even be Ford himself. A lot of ifs, but it was better than nothing.

The clearing they landed in was covered with tall, thick-bladed grass that brushed his arms with every step and every gust of wind. He signaled Teyla to take point, then waited as Rodney did his thing with his scanner.

"This way," Rodney said with a jut of his chin.

John flicked his hand forward. Teyla set off smoothly through the grass. At times watching her move made him feel like a klutz, but mostly he just admired her grace. Among other qualities. He knew himself well enough to keep those thoughts tightly under wraps, though, along with the part drilled into him by his father that didn't like the idea of a woman in the line of fire. He was lucky to have her on his team.

The forest was eerily quiet, only broken by the creak of branches in the wind and the occasional flutter of bird-like wings. The forest smelled right, at least, like every wooded area he'd ever been to. Damp and earthy, just a little metallic, with the overwhelming scent of green things and rotting wood beneath it.

Teyla slowed. More sunlight broke through the branches here; they had come to the edge of another clearing. Teyla edged forward as they waited. John gripped his P90 more securely as she signaled them forward again. The structure they had spotted from the jumper sat in the middle of the clearing, more swaths of the tall grass obscuring it. It didn't look like much: a lousy-looking wooden door in the middle of stone walls topped by a haphazard roof. John didn't think it was inhabited, but then Teyla pointed out an almost invisible line of bent stalks.

He spread his fingers. Rodney and Teyla nodded. Teyla ghosted out to his left, Rodney went to his right. John took a deep breath, counted to thirty, and started through the middle of the clearing.

He was halfway to the shack when he heard a high-pitched whine. Then he was staring helplessly up at the incandescence of the sun, failure overwhelming him. John prayed as consciousness dropped away, hoping against common sense that Teyla and Rodney had escaped.

* * *

Teyla woke to a low, muffled moan, full of frustration. She blinked to clear the stickiness from her eyes, then blinked some more as she tried to focus on her surroundings. The blinding orange light of the setting sun striped through a small room, making it difficult to make out the dimensions and details. She was propped against a wall, unable to move more than her eyes and the index finger of her left hand.

There were grey-clad legs to either side of her. The longer set were on her left–obviously Colonel Sheppard. She strained her eyes to the side, but she could only make out his chest. Teyla tried to call out, but the only thing that came out was a breathy hum.

A plaintive moan answered her from her right; clearly Dr. McKay was unhappy with the situation. Colonel Sheppard moaned from her left, a long-suffering sound that she judged to be a response to McKay. It only egged the doctor on; he replied with a long series of grunts and moans. Strangely, her heart felt lighter than it had since they had decided on this venture.

She heard creaking, the sound of an old door opening. They all fell silent, waiting as a figure stepped forward into her line of sight, silhouetted by the glare of the sun.

Teyla felt the same strange sensation she had experienced immediately before the attack, like a Wraith but not. Goosebumps flared across her skin. She struggled desperately, but her fear did not aid her in any way. Her heart pounded faster and faster until she thought it might fly from her chest as the creature approached.

Her worst fears were realized. It was a Wraith, one of the foot soldiers, though it appeared different from most she had seen. Beside her, Dr. McKay breathed rapidly, heavily. Teyla tried not to breathe at all. She tried to gather the words of the death prayer, but her mind was empty. The creature was the only thing that existed. It lifted its right hand–and she closed her eyes, not wishing to see its ugliness when she died. The moment seemed to last forever, strangled noises coming from either side of her, her heart pounding, air burning in her throat–but nothing happened. Finally, Teyla gathered her courage and opened her eyes.

Aiden stared back at her, his wide grin catching the light.

Teyla gasped. Her stomach flipped as her body tried to keep up with the reversal of her emotions. She tried to speak, but her voice was still paralyzed.

"Man, it is so good to see you guys," Aiden said. "It's been lonely as hell here by myself."

Dr. McKay made an escalating run of noises that ended with something that sounded like a growl.

"Sorry about that, Dr. McKay," Aiden said with a laugh. "Couldn't take any chances."

Teyla managed to tilt her head a fraction so she could see Aiden better. He wore military fatigues, torn in places, but he carried a Wraith stunner.

Aiden had been the one who had attacked them.

Confused, she studied his face. A terrible idea occurred to her. It was very much Aiden's face, yet it was not. His eyes were dilated to pure blackness, his skin was oddly pale, and there were ridges along his nose and eyes.

And the strange sensation had not faded.

"Anyway, you guys will be right as rain soon enough. And you're not drooling, Dr. McKay, so that's an improvement, right?"

Aiden grinned and winked at her. Teyla's heart skipped; he sounded so very much like himself, but she knew he was not. Not completely.

"Oh hey! I bet you guys want to know what happened." He waited a beat, glancing between them as if expecting an answer. "There's not that much to tell–I guess some of the Wraith like to play with their food. One minute we're surrounded on the South Pier, and the next I'm waking up on a table with this ugly-ass dude over me, trying to use me as a pin cushion."

Aiden's eyes flicked towards hers again, his face turning sheepish. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay had spent an enlightening evening several months ago explaining Earth vulgarity to her, but Aiden had never been comfortable using it around her. She had always found it both amusing and frustrating; now it was reassuring.

"So then he brings out the biggest needle yet," he continued, "and after he jabs me I just lose it. Somehow I got out of there, grabbed one of their ships and took off. How about that, Major? A jarhead doing some mighty fine flying, if I say so myself."

Sheppard grunted. Aiden laughed. "It's a sweet ship, Major. Maybe I'll take you up for a spin. Later, though. I've got some stuff to take care of."

He stood, his face rising out of her line of sight. "Sorry the place is lame. My grandma would be all over me for being such a bad host, but the local Wal-Mart sucks big time. Latrine's out back, well's out front. Make yourselves at home."

Aiden walked to the door. They all raised noisy protests. He paused and turned back with another of his easy grins. "It's so great to see you guys."

Then he was gone. Again.

Sheppard and McKay continued their outcries, their volume rising to near shouts. Finally they fell silent. Teyla tapped her index finger against the floor she barely felt–tap, tap, tap–until her mind drifted away from her hopes and fears, and she entered an emotionless trance. At some point her other fingers joined in.

Teyla blinked back to awareness, her control returned to her. She flexed her wrists and elbows. Her skin was still numb, but she could move.

"You okay, Teyla?"

She nodded at Colonel Sheppard and tried to answer him. The air caught in her dry throat. She coughed and tried again. "I am fine. You?"

He nodded, barely visible in the now-dark room. Dr. McKay was speaking, muttering about pins and needles and other items. She rolled to her side and began the laborious process of standing. The lack of sensitivity made her clumsy and slow.

"You saying anything important over there McKay, or you just running off at the mouth?"

"Everything I say is important," Dr. McKay said. "Some things are just more important than others."

Colonel Sheppard rolled his eyes and then smiled at her. "You want to help me kick Ford's ass when he gets back here?"

She returned his smile tentatively. "I hope that will be unnecessary."

"Oh, he's got it coming, all right, leaving us here like that." The colonel grinned. "It's good to have him back, isn't it?"

Teyla hesitated, but she knew that no good would come of staying silent. "I am concerned. Did he not seem odd to you?"

Sheppard shrugged, but Dr. McKay stepped forward, his intense eyes focused on her. "What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath. "I noticed physical changes–his eyes were dilated, and there were ridges on his face."

"He was wearing that Wraith skull-thing," the colonel objected. "Maybe it's rubbing blisters."

Teyla pushed down her irritation, reminding herself that he did not know what she did. "Did he not seem overly effusive to you? And why did he not return to Atlantis if he had the means?"

"Why did he shoot us?" Dr. McKay added. "I really, really could have done without that little fun time."

Teyla nodded. Colonel Sheppard would not meet her eyes. Instead he inspected his vest and weapons.

"Look," he said. "The lieutenant has been through a traumatic experience. Of course he's going to act a little off."

She shook her head. "Colonel, you must listen. I was able to sense him."

Sheppard looked up at that. "You're saying he's a Wraith?"

"No," she said slowly. She rubbed her hands together, getting used to the returning sensation. "I do not know what to make of it, but I felt something similar to the Wraith, but different, whenever he was near."

"Oh, that's not good," Dr. McKay murmured.

Colonel Sheppard stared at the far wall for a long time. "Fine. Maybe they did something to him. But he's still Ford, and I'm bringing him home. Got that?"

"Of course," Teyla agreed. "That was never in question."

He held her eyes, then nodded sharply. "Good. Now let's go see if we can find him again."

Teyla sighed as the colonel left the building. She respected him very much, and his loyalty was one of his best qualities. But at times, that stubborn loyalty was an impediment. As she started to the door herself, she noticed that Dr. McKay was still staring after the colonel. He turned at the sound of her steps, and their eyes met. His worry was plain in his clear eyes.

"Right," he said. He lifted his P90 and headed out into the night.

The colonel stood in the middle of the grassy clearing, the thin beam from his gun flashing as he swept it through the darkness. A single half-moon silvered the land. Insects chirped in the distance, a few darting and dancing in the artificial light.

"Teyla?"

She slowly turned, looking for signs of Aiden's passage. The dark obscured small details, and the grass was broken and bent in many places where their own bodies had been dragged through the area mere hours before.

"I cannot tell," she concluded. "Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning. Aiden did say he would return, and we do not know what predators hunt these woods at night." It would not be an issue on Athos; the large, dangerous animals hunted by day. But she did not know this planet, and even small things lurking in the dark might be deadly.

Sheppard stared at the tree line, his mouth drawn the side and his brow furrowed in unhappy contemplation. He sighed. "All right, I guess we're spending the night in the Holiday Inn."

Teyla raised her eyebrows, but he did not explain.

"Oh, if only," Dr. McKay said. "I wouldn't even complain about their lousy pillows."

The colonel snorted as he turned back toward the building. "Yeah right, Rodney. Pull the other one."

At least some things were returning to normal. As their back-and-forth sallies continued, Teyla told herself that everything would be fine. Aiden was alive, and that was the important thing. All other problems would wait until they returned to Atlantis.

* * *

Aiden jumped, did a sideways shuffle, and then pumped the air a couple of times before he settled back into a lope. He'd looked in on the team one last time after they'd settled in for the night. Dr. McKay hadn't noticed him passing by–Aiden would have to give him hell for that. Then again, Aiden was impressed by his own stealth lately. He was better at penetrating a line than he'd ever been before, so maybe he could cut McKay a little slack. Still, it wouldn't do for the team to get taken out because of a blind spot.

He smiled. It was so good to see them again. The doc, and the major, and Teyla. Lord, she was a sight for sore eyes. And man, were his ever sore. The moonlight wasn't too bad, but he still had a headache from being out in the sun earlier. He hated that damn skull plate–it stank like old bone and dead Wraith–but he had to admit it helped his sensitive eyes. Just one more reason to wear the thing, besides blending in with the Wraith when he was around them.

Aiden hit the wrist control for the transport beam. The trip wasn't as smooth as going through the gate, but it was over so quick it didn't matter. The dart was a fine piece of machinery. Maybe he really would take the major up later. Now, he had an appointment he didn't want to be late for. The team would be here when he got back, and that made him happier than he'd been in a very long time.

* * *

Teyla sat last watch, as was her custom. She had risen before dawn as long as she could remember, sharing tea and conversation with those close to her. Trips through the Stargate, to planets where the day cycle was different from her own, made it more choice than bodily habit, but she always enjoyed the hours before dawn. On missions past, if they had a campfire, she would prepare tea to serve with the morning rations. It was a small, but important part of her life from Athos that she enjoyed sharing with her new friends.

This morning there would be no tea. They had only minimal supplies with them, having left their overnight packs in the jumper. So she merely watched as the sky lightened on the horizon. When she judged it close to sunrise, she returned to the hut to wake Colonel Sheppard. He blinked at her blearily as she opened the squeaky door. He and Dr. McKay were lying back to back on the hard floor. She had shared warmth with each of them in turn last night; it made the discomfort much easier to bear.

"It is sunrise," she told him quietly.

The colonel nodded and rolled to his feet. Dr. McKay hunched inwards but did not wake as they left. She stood with Sheppard, taking in the brisk air and the sounds of wildlife awakening with the rising sun. At some point in the past year, this had become their habit, along with hot tea and allowing Dr. McKay as much rest as possible. Despite the beauty and calm, she grew restless, filled with the need to start after Aiden.

After a few minutes, the colonel turned to her. "Quiet watch?"

She inclined her head. "Just myself and the night insects."

He nodded. "I want to see if we can round up Ford. If not, we'll head back to the jumper, take a little spin and see what's what."

The sun was higher now, purples and pinks giving way to a blazing yellow. She had to squint to see his face. "Would it not be better to remain here, in case the lieutenant returns?"

Sheppard sighed and turned back toward the cabin. "I'd rather find him sooner than later. We've waited long enough." He walked away, determination in his stride as he approached the door. "McKay! Get that lazy ass out of bed!"

That too was customary. Teyla hugged her arms around her chest and hoped that soon all of their habits would be restored. She took a deep breath and went inside, ready to break fast on the oddly flavored Earth rations. She smiled at Dr. McKay, still groggy and uncoordinated from sleep.

By the time they had found Aiden's trail, leading to the edge of another stretch of woods, Dr. McKay was his normal self, talking full volume about alarm clocks and bug bites and other irritations in his life. Teyla concentrated on finding signs of Aiden. The trail edged a shallow ravine with a thin trickle of water tinkling over the rocky bed at its base. Like the first forested area, it soon opened up into another grass-covered clearing.

She stopped, waiting for her teammates before she gave voice to what she saw.

"I do not believe he is here any longer," she told them.

A large patch of flattened, singed grass took up the middle of the clearing, sure sign that a ship had been there recently.

"That would explain the energy readings," Dr. McKay said. "He did say he had a Wraith ship."

"So where the hell did he go?"

Teyla had no answer. Dr. McKay shrugged. "How would I know that?" he asked incredulously.

Colonel Sheppard ignored him. "Back to the jumper. This is really starting to piss me off." He turned and headed back to the trail, Dr. McKay following right behind. The colonel set a brisk pace, and they arrived back at the jumper within an hour.

Teyla settled into her usual seat with both relief and anticipation. Though she knew it was unlikely that they would find Aiden this way, she still hoped. And it felt good to continue the search, rather than waiting, inactive.

"Huh," Dr. McKay said, a half breath before Colonel Sheppard's "What the–"

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"McKay, what the hell is wrong with my ship?"

Dr. McKay was already pulling compartments open. "Shut up, I'm working on it."

"It's not responding at all," Colonel Sheppard said a bit desperately.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," McKay snapped back. "If you could just be quiet–"

Teyla sat forward as he fell silent. Sheppard also leaned toward him.

"Oh no," Dr. McKay said in a small voice.

"Rodney?"

Dr. McKay slumped in his chair, looking defeated. When he faced the colonel, she could see his jaw clench and release before he started speaking. "That idiot took the main power crystals. The jumper isn't responding because there's no conceivable way for it to draw power from, oh, I don't know, thin air!"

"Who? Ford?" Sheppard asked incredulously. Teyla found it difficult to believe as well.

"Yes, Ford," McKay snapped. "Unless some as-yet-unseen forest elf pranced in here using his convenient remote and mysteriously knew which fucking crystals to take to maroon us on Gilligan's planet!"

Teyla frowned. The situation did not make sense. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"What, do I look like Carnac the Magnificent?"

"No turban," Colonel Sheppard murmured, then rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. "He said he wanted us to stay here. Ford is really making it difficult to rescue his ass."

"Rescuing is not the word I'm thinking of," Dr. McKay said darkly. "Those crystals are ten thousand years old at the very least. You can't just go tossing them around like a football–"

"Rodney," Sheppard broke in, "can you fix it?"

Dr. McKay gaped at him. "What do you want me to do, lick the wires? We have no batteries."

"Batteries?" she asked.

"There's no work-around?" Colonel Sheppard asked at the same time. "A secondary system maybe, something with a separate power supply you could cannibalize?"

Dr. McKay sighed and rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows. "I'll try," he said. "But you have to understand what this means. The odds are very small that I'll be able to find an alternative power source, and even if I do it probably won't be enough to get the jumper off the ground."

"I have faith in you, Rodney," Sheppard said seriously.

McKay stood up, waving his hands at the colonel. "While that's very touching, it doesn't really help me any. I'll just be over here, planning out my retirement in our lovely little villa while I work on pulling a miracle out of my ass." He stalked to the back of the jumper, but paused to glance back at them. "Again."

Teyla watched him pull panels open, short, jerky motions that accompanied the rhythm of his mutterings. Like the colonel, she too had faith that, like so many times before, he would find a solution to their problem.

"I'm going out," Sheppard said. "Ford's got to be around somewhere."

Teyla stared at him incredulously, not understanding the logic that brought him to that conclusion, but decided not to say anything. She understood his restless need to do something while Dr. McKay worked. She stood, ready to join him.

He shook his head. "Stay here," he told her quietly. "Look after McKay while he's got his head buried."

"Are you certain you will be all right alone?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her as he opened the hatch, then left without another word.

Teyla stared after him, watching until he disappeared through the trees. She hoped he would keep himself safe. She took a deep breath of the green-heavy air, and turned her attention back to the jumper.

"Is there anything I can do to assist you?" she asked McKay.

"Hand me a PowerBar, would you?"

She smiled and dug one out of the packs. He tore the package open and ate with little attention. She sat for a while, just watching him. He had his thumb pressed against his teeth, intent on the display in front of him. Occasionally he would leap into frenetic activity, prodding various parts of the ship and moving clips and wires. He reminded her of a young child with a new puzzle, endlessly fascinated with the challenge.

After a while, she got up and paced the perimeter. It was as calm as before–the sighing of the trees and the gentle swish of the grasses in the breeze, an occasional call from an animal, and the constant insects flitting about. She told herself that Colonel Sheppard had his radio, and that he had not been gone very long at all. Perhaps even now he was talking with Aiden, joking about the misunderstanding as they returned to the jumper.

And perhaps she could teach herself to fly without a ship.

She snorted softly and reentered the jumper. Dr. McKay was in one of his thinking phases, so she passed by him as quietly as she was able. Irritation started to eat at her as she stared out the front viewscreen. She disliked waiting; waiting while others worked, she hated intensely.

To pass the time, she opened the storage compartments and pulled out the extra supplies. She counted MRE's and protein bars. She sorted them into piles, then sorted them into different piles. There was enough to last them about a week, perhaps longer if they rationed carefully.

"It doesn't make sense," Dr. McKay said out of the blue.

Teyla looked up from the first aid supplies she had spread out on the floor. "I am sorry?"

He kept his gaze on the computer screen as he answered. "Like you said, it doesn't make sense. Why would Ford want to strand us on the planet? Has he gone completely nuts, or is he just keeping us for a snack like a Wraith?"

Teyla shrugged as she searched for an answer. "Perhaps there is some danger we are unaware of, and he is trying to protect us."

He laughed, a short, unhappy burst of sound. "Yes, because that's such a great plan. Leave your team behind while you go off and get yourself killed. Must be contagious."

She shook her head as she picked at the corner of one of the foil-wrapped packages. Dr. McKay was obviously still unhappy about Sheppard's attempted self-sacrifice against the hive ship. She had thought that was behind them, but perhaps certain issues had been buried by their need to find Aiden. "I doubt that Aiden has placed himself at risk, and I do not think that he means us ill. He said he would come back."

Dr. McKay looked up to meet her gaze for the first time since he began working. She wondered what he was thinking; he seemed to be searching her face for something.

"I hope so," he said, and then returned to his work. "It'd be just my luck to have him show up two seconds after I figure this thing out."

She smiled. Dr. McKay fell silent again, and she continued counting bottles and bandages. When she was finished, she returned the supplies to the storage area. Then she went outside to check the perimeter again.

The sun was starting to set. She tapped her radio, her anxiety tightly controlled. "Colonel Sheppard," she called.

"What's up, Teyla?"

She let herself smile widely, sharing her relief at his immediate reply with the vast blue sky. "Are you well?"

"Fine," he answered in a clipped tone. "Has McKay figured it out yet?"

Teyla frowned. Obviously, he had not found Aiden. "I am uncertain," she told him. "But I do not believe so."

The channel fell silent. Teyla debated asking him his whereabouts, but decided to let him be. Her patience was rewarded not ten minutes later, when he emerged from the tree line. His stride was quick and forceful, but his face was calm as he stepped into the jumper. He squatted beside Dr. McKay.

"Rodney?"

Dr. McKay looked up, surprised but not startled. He sighed and tried to rise, but had some difficulty navigating through the numerous wires and parts strewn about. Colonel Sheppard took his hand and pulled, and together they cleared him from the mess. Dr. McKay's eyes slid towards her as he stretched his arms overhead before returning to the colonel.

"I've tested each of the relays," he said at last. "There's a separate power source that runs the minor systems. Lights, hatch, displays, so on and so forth."

Sheppard nodded, gesturing for McKay to go on when he hesitated. The doctor rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, and Teyla had an urge to rub out the stiffness that must surely be there.

"I know what you want to hear, Colonel, and it just isn't going to happen. If I even try to hook the main drive up to the secondary source, there's a ninety-percent chance it will blow the crystal into itty-bitty shards."

The colonel's jaw clenched as he stared out the back of the shuttle. She could see him very deliberately make himself relax, taking a deep breath and uncrossing his arms before he turned his attention back to Dr. McKay. "What happens the other ten percent of the time?"

Dr. McKay twirled a finger in the air. "We get enough power to lift about ten feet off the ground."

"So, not an option. Okay, then," Colonel Sheppard said decisively. "Concentrate on the alternatives. Can we build something? Maybe refine some crystals from the planet?"

"You want to stick rocks in a piece of the most advanced technology in the universe?" Dr. McKay crossed his arms, throwing his head back as he got into his rant. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you not realize that your favorite toy was a little bit beyond the rest of the Linkin Logs and Legos in your box? We don't even know where the Ancients got the crystals, whether they're natural or laboratory-created. But no, you're right. Let's just start tossing sand around and see if we get glass."

Sheppard glared. "Are you finished? I'm just throwing stuff out here, McKay," he snapped. "It's called brainstorming. I thought you science types were supposed to be familiar with the concept."

Dr. McKay turned away, and when he turned back, anxiety leapt inside her. His face was completely open, his eyes wide and worried. "Sometimes an equation is unsolvable," he said.

Colonel Sheppard walked to the front of the ship. He leaned against the back of his seat, bracing his hands on the headrest. Dr. McKay took a half-step forward, but then stopped and returned to his work. Teyla felt lost and useless.

"All right," Sheppard said. "We'll bed down here for the night, and tackle it fresh in the morning. It's not as bad as it seems. Ford will be back soon, I'll ream him a new one, and then we'll get the hell off of this planet." He turned back to them composed and confident.

Teyla nodded. Dr. McKay looked up, meeting the colonel's eyes for a long moment before he began fiddling with wires again.

* * *

John looked up from the slide of his pistol, working the cloth by touch alone as he watched Teyla cross through the field of grass. She followed the thin line that their feet had worn over the last two days. He would have expected it to be trampled by now, but the stuff was amazingly resilient, popping back up even after three pairs of feet had smashed it down. Little butterfly-things were fluttering about, darting in toward Teyla every now and then. All in all it reminded him of something out of a fabric softener commercial–perfectly sunny day, light breeze weaving through the grassy plain, beautiful woman communing with nature. Too bad he wasn't here on vacation.

As she drew closer, John could see that Teyla's hair was still wet, and her clothes clung to her in damp patches. She had a wide smile on her face, though, obviously happy to be clean after several days without bathing. He'd never know a woman who liked staying dirty, even if she didn't mind getting that way in the first place.

"How's the water?" he called as she neared the jumper.

"Invigorating, Colonel," she answered, her smile turning a little coy. "I am certain you will enjoy it."

Which probably meant it was two degrees above freezing. Teyla had a mischievous streak a mile wide, but she liked to keep it hidden under placid looks and soothing aphorisms. He glanced back down at his pistol, trying to hide his own smile.

"Uh-huh," he said as he snapped the slide back into place. "You know, you could call me John."

She set her pack down just inside the entrance, tensing slightly as she noticed Rodney for the first time. Teyla was always so controlled, even when she was surprised. Rodney didn't pay her any mind, hunched over the screen he'd been frowning at all morning. John smiled at Teyla as she gracefully sat on the opposite side of the open hatch.

"I would be honored to do so," she said, and it took John a moment to catch back up to the conversation. "But would it be appropriate?"

"I don't see why not," he said wryly. "It's not like I'll be military much longer, even if we do make it back."

Teyla recoiled, even if her muscles didn't move an inch. John sighed.

"Oh, please," Rodney snapped. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course you'll still be military."

He looked back at Rodney, wondering exactly what he'd ever done to earn such unflinching support from a man who professed to see incompetence and doom in everyone and everything. Perversely, that support made him feel even more prickly. John nodded amiably, indulging in his pessimism.

"You're right," he agreed. "I'll just be in the brig, stripped of rank, while the rest of you wait for the Wraith to take you out."

"You cannot be serious," Teyla said sharply, and John felt guilty for bringing it up when he had only been trying to relax some of the boundaries between them.

"He's not," Rodney said scathingly. "Elizabeth would never allow such a thing."

John shrugged. Personally, he thought Elizabeth might be the one pushing for the brig. He'd undermined her authority a little too often in the past. "Maybe, maybe not. Unfortunately, she doesn't really have any say in the matter. But," he said, hoping to steer the conversation back to his original point, "let's not worry about it. Just call me John. Both of you."

Rodney ignored his efforts, huffing as he stood up. "I'm getting sick of this martyr complex," he said, picking up his pack and pushing forward. John had to quickly swing his feet out of the way as he stomped through.

"So if you'll excuse me, Colonel, I'm going to wash. Maybe by the time I get back you'll have recovered your brains."

John watched Rodney stalk away, swiping irritably at the grass every other step. He turned back to his pistol, giving it a frustrated rub. When he looked back up, Teyla was watching him, clearly concerned.

"Were you telling the truth, Colonel? Will you be put in prison when we return?"

John holstered his gun, then sat forward to look her in the eyes. "Don't worry about it, Teyla. It's a possibility, but it's nothing I haven't faced before. I knew what the consequences could be when we decided to do this. If my career is what it takes to get Ford home, safe and sound, then that's what it takes. I'd do the same for you or Rodney." He held her gaze until she slowly nodded. He pulled out his friendliest grin, the one he saved for first dates and first encounters with aliens. "And it's John remember? There's no reason you should call me colonel, anyway. It's not like you have to kowtow to the US Armed Forces."

She raised an eyebrow, but nodded again. "John, then. Thank you."

"Great, Teyla. That sounds much better."

She smiled back at him, but then a pensive look crossed her face. "Dr. McKay thinks you should be addressed by your rank, and he is not military either."

John snorted. "That's just Rodney being Rodney. He's trying to reassure me in his own way. Don't worry about it."

She cocked her head at him, looking at him in that way that made him feel like she had about thirty years on him. "Dr. McKay is a very caring man," she said, "though he often tries to appear otherwise."

"That he is," John agreed. He pointed a finger at her. "And you should drop that doctor business. It's bad for his ego. Call him Rodney."

Teyla shook her head. "I could not do that without his permission. It would be–impolite."

John frowned. Sometimes he forgot that different customs weren't just about harvest festivals or religious beliefs. Small things set cultures apart, and he should know that after spending his life all over the globe. Hell, the military was its own separate world, and he knew that non-military often had trouble understanding their unique way of doing things. But he always felt so easy with Teyla that he tended to forget those differences.

"Is that why you've never called me John?" He leaned back when she nodded, running a hand through his hair. He grimaced at the oily feel of it. "I'm sorry. Some day you're going to beat it into me how different we are."

She smiled widely. "I have hopes of that eventuality, but I am a realist."

He laughed. "Ouch. No fair picking on the slow guy." He picked up his kit, really feeling the need to degrease. "That water had better be toasty warm."

Teyla just cocked an eyebrow. John laughed again, then headed off toward the pool Teyla had discovered.

* * *

Rodney frowned at his shirt. The polymer was highly stain-resistant, which was generally a good thing, but it also tended to resist soap and water–at least when being scrubbed by hand. The military-issue soap wasn't a very effective surfactant, which didn't help the task. He frowned at his shirt some more, decided that didn't accomplish anything, and lifted it for the sniff test.

It'd do.

He squeezed as much water out as could and then hung it over a branch next to his trousers and boxers. Grabbing the all-purpose soap securely, he waded into the slow-running pool. The water was chilly, but not frigid. Enough to make parts curl up and whimper at the first touch, but not so bad that he had to rush through the process. He dunked himself to get used to the temperature as quickly as possible.

Something rustled in the underbrush. Rodney looked up, his heart speeding. It was probably a wild animal. Quite possibly a wolf, or a bear, or a wolf-bear. Whatever it was, it was probably large with big teeth and sharp claws, and very, very hungry, and he was naked in the middle of a stream with his gun out of reach. John and Teyla would find his remains later, bloody and bloated and naked, and wouldn't that be embarrassing on top of everything else.

Then spiky black hair appeared through the branches, and Rodney barely swallowed back a hysterical giggle. "Thank you so much for sneaking up while I'm completely vulnerable," he yelled.

John pushed the last branches aside, already smirking. "You're not some mythical Greek goddess, McKay. Relax." Then he dropped his pack on one of the large rocks and started stripping.

Rodney turned away and squeezed out some soap for his hair. He still wasn't used to Sheppard's casual attitude toward nudity. He supposed it was a military thing–Ford wasn't shy about skinny-dipping when necessary, either. But Ford was quick and efficient, while John paraded around like he didn't have a care in the world. It made it difficult to stick to locker-room etiquette. Right now, John was busy cussing and whimpering about the water temperature, muttering something about Teyla. Rodney was definitely glad that military casualness didn't extend to both sexes; he didn't know how he'd handle Teyla naked. It was easier with men–there weren't different parts that naturally drew the eye. Of course, that meant it was more dangerous if the eye did wander over those similar parts.

"You still pissed at me, Rodney?"

John's question was soft, but it came from almost directly behind him. Rodney had a good lather worked up in his hair. He turned with one hand still on his head, guarding his eyes from the suds. "What? I'm not pissed at you. Why would you think that?"

John rolled his eyes as he scrubbed soap across his chest, dog tags dangling across his hands. "Gee, Rodney, I don't know. Something about a martyr complex and missing brains?"

Rodney waved his free hand, amused when the motion flicked soap suds at John. "Yes, well, I was just stating the facts."

John smiled. "And you do like your facts, don't you."

He ducked under the water, and Rodney moved on to soap his underarms. John reemerged spluttering as water streamed from his hair into his face. Rodney dunked as well, working his fingers through his hair. He came back up and swiped the water from his eyes, to find John watching him thoughtfully.

"What?" he asked, suddenly paranoid that he'd picked up a leech or something equally horrifying.

"I know you have issues with using my name," John said, and Rodney blinked, trying to figure out how to respond to that when he wasn't even sure whether it was true. John didn't wait for him. "But you should talk to Teyla. We've been overlooking the fact that she won't call us by our given names unless we give her permission."

"Huh," he said in a fit of brilliance. "That's..." He stopped, trying to reorder his thoughts. "I've never given it any thought. I hear my title so often it just seemed natural."

John nodded as he shampooed his hair. He looked completely ridiculous. Ridiculous worked for John, though. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Just think about it."

"Yes, of course," Rodney replied absently. He'd have to talk to Teyla later, though it seemed like an awkward conversation to have. Later, after he got a definitive picture of the secondary power system. He'd let Radek take over puddlejumper systems early on, and while he of course kept up with Zelenka's reports, he wasn't as familiar with them as he needed to be now.

"You going to stay in all day?"

"Hmm?" Rodney asked, then realized that yes, he was still pruning up as he stood there thinking. "Right," he said, and headed to shore. He hated this part. No matter how careful he was, he always wound up with sand or mud in his socks. Too bad the SGC hadn't thought to include flip-flops in their supplies.

He toweled off, his thoughts bouncing between problems with athlete's foot and power supplies. John splashed out of the pool beside him.

"Have you done your weapon maintenance lately?"

Rodney brushed a hand in John's direction as he concentrated on getting cleanish feet into clean trousers.

"McKay."

"Yes, yes, I'll get to it."

"Be sure you do."

He looked up at John and smiled. "I will."

John smiled back as he dressed. Rodney had always preferred to manage all the small details of his life, especially since most of the people who tried to do it for him were idiots, but he had to admit that sometimes, it was nice to know there were people looking out for him.

* * *

Aiden paused outside the jumper hatch, taking a breath to settle his nerves. He'd been jumpy as hell lately, worked up for no good reason. Well, infiltrating a hive ship was a good reason, but the jitters were still hanging on even after he'd gotten away clean. He must be nervous about seeing the team again, especially after the way he'd left last time. Aiden smiled; the major'd be pissed, but McKay was the one who would strip his hide.

He pulled out his battered remote, hoping the thing still worked. He hit the fancy garage door opener and the hatch lowered.

The weak light of dawn was at just the right angle to light up the interior. Teyla was kneeling, P90 ready, and Major Sheppard was coming to his feet with his pistol aimed. Dr. McKay struggled with his sleeping bag. Aiden held up his hands, but he couldn't stop his grin.

"Ford! Get in here and explain yourself!"

Aiden ducked his head and stepped forward. Yep, the major was pissed. At least he'd lowered the gun. "Hey, guys."

"Lieutenant, stop with the pretty faces and tell me what's going on," the major ranted.

"Yes, and where are the power crystals?" Dr. McKay asked.

Aiden glanced at Teyla, who was watching him carefully. He sighed and knelt beside her, hoping that the tension that was itching at him would go away once he got everybody else soothed down. "Things are a little hairy right now," he started. "I just thought it would be safer for y'all to chill out for a bit. Think of it as vacation a la Ford."

He could tell the major wasn't buying anything he was selling.

"I'm not interested in a vacation," the major said, slow and cutting in that way that said he was about three seconds from losing it. Aiden remembered him using that tone with Bob right before emptying two clips.

Aiden raised his hands, reaching to adjust his cover before he remembered he wasn't wearing one. He scratched his head instead. "There's a Wraith fleet one system over, and they're going to pass through the edges of this one soon. It's not safe for you guys to use the gate."

"What?" Dr. McKay shouted.

"That's all the more reason to get out of here now, before they get here," the major said. He sounded calmer, but Aiden watched his piece just the same. "And we need to get that intelligence back to Atlantis."

"I'm sorry, sir," Aiden said, rising to his feet. He had a plan, and he needed to stick to it even if it pissed off his team. Besides, there were other issues to consider. "I can't go back. They did a little something to me, and I need a shot of their go-juice too often to get out of range."

Right now, he was pumped full of the stuff, but it wouldn't last long. He'd stolen a bunch of the vials the first time he'd figured out he needed it, but it didn't keep after about thirty-six hours. As far as he could tell, he was stuck hunting Wraith for the rest of his life.

"Juice?" Dr. McKay asked in that snooty way he had. "What, you need your morning shot of Wraith-ade to go with your Wheaties?"

Aiden sniggered. "Good one, Doc. Nah, I don't know, it's some kind of shot they hook the foot soldiers on." He glanced at Teyla, who still hadn't said anything. He wondered what she thought of him now that he'd been tinkered with by the Wraith. He supposed it gave them something in common. "My grandma'd be pissed if she found out I came all this way to wind up a junkie."

The major shifted forward, and Aiden snapped into a defensive position. He relaxed a little as Sheppard held up his hands, but that tension was back, stronger than ever.

"Relax, Ford," the major said. "We can take care of it. Just come on back to Atlantis with us. Beckett'll have a solution whipped up in no time."

Aiden knew a line when he heard one. Hell, they'd been trained in OCS on how and when to supply the best bullshit. He looked at Dr. McKay, who was frowning like he knew it was bull, too. Teyla was just kneeling there, all placid and calm like nothing could touch her.

"No can do, sir," he said, shaking his head. "I've got a tactical advantage with the Wraith that we can't afford to waste."

"You are fighting the Wraith by yourself?" Teyla asked, her voice rising incredulously.

Aiden shook his head. He hadn't thought she'd be the one to doubt him. "Just raids, enough to keep them smarting," he explained. "They never know I'm there until it's too late."

"That is incredible," Teyla said, her voice all breathy now, and Aiden grinned at her.

"Yeah, that's peachy," the major broke in. "Caldwell will dance the hokey-pokey when he finds out. So let's go home and come up with a plan."

Sheppard was looking dangerous again, and it got his hackles up something fierce. Aiden didn't know who Caldwell was, but he didn't see how anybody who hadn't been fighting the Wraith like he had could understand. He backed up, deciding that talking was getting him nowhere. He'd come back later when the team had a chance to think about what he was trying to do.

That's when the major made his move.

Reflexes took over, and Sheppard was flying through the air, bouncing off the control panel at the front of the ship before sliding to the ground. He was out of commission, and Aiden turned his attention to the next threat. Teyla stepped in front of him, between himself and the other men.

"What are you doing, Aiden?"

She was all fluid and tight at the same time, those awesome muscles shifting like a big cat's. He couldn't let her get the drop on him.

"You can't make me go back," he told her, watching and waiting, letting his muscles and instincts do their job.

Teyla shook her head. "And I cannot allow you to leave us."

He moved even as she kicked out, spinning away and out of range of those strong legs. She dodged his first blow, like he'd known she would, but he landed the second square to the back of her head. She dropped with a quiet thud. He nodded, satisfied that he'd taken her out with as little damage as possible.

Aiden assessed the situation. Dr. McKay was gaping, no threat, but he might pull something anyway.

"Don't try it, Doc," he warned.

Dr. McKay raised his hands. Aiden nodded, then backed out of the jumper. He set off at a quick trot. He didn't feel nearly as tense or jittery as he had before, though he was frustrated by the way things had turned out. He respected the major, he really did, but Sheppard just couldn't get his head around the harsh realities of war sometimes. Not like a Marine was trained to do. But Aiden would cut the guys some slack. They'd come around once they realized what he was trying to do was the best course of action. In the mean time, they'd have some good down time in a safe place.

Aiden jogged on, feeling better every step.

* * *

Rodney debated going after Ford for all of a half-second before he turned back to the more urgent situation. He wasted another half-second dithering about who to go to first, the word 'triage' echoing in his head without meaning until he forced his feet towards Teyla. She had a pulse, she was breathing, and that was all he could determine. He left her and moved on to John.

John was tangled between the front seats of the jumper, his head resting awkwardly against the console. Rodney thought he might vomit, but the feeling passed, leaving him in a fog of calm. He squatted down, bracing himself against the arm rest of John's chair as he reached out to touch John's neck.

Long eyelashes fluttered just as he found a strongly beating pulse. His own heart rate kicked up in response. He left his hand against John's warm skin as he breathed deeply, trying to calm down. John moaned, opening his eyes fully, and Rodney drew back.

"John."

John's eyes were all pupil. He couldn't tell in the dim light if they were equal or not. He needed a light, something to check their reactivity. He started to stand, but John grabbed his wrist.

"Ford," he said, blinking rapidly.

Rodney gaped for a second. "No," he said. "Colonel–"

"McKay," John said as he struggled to sit, "help me up and tell me what happened to Ford."

"Wait, you probably shouldn't move," he said, panicking a little as flashes of worst-case scenarios from emergency methods classes popped into his head. He caught John's shoulder, but the colonel latched onto his arm and started pulling. Rodney was forced to stand or wind up in a heap on top of John.

"Too late for that," John muttered as they awkwardly maneuvered upward. He swayed against Rodney, strong fingers digging into Rodney's triceps for support. Gradually John's grip loosened, and Rodney stepped back, still watching him carefully.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You lost consciousness for several minutes, you might have a concussion, or even hemorrhaging, not to mention other internal injuries that I really, really have no clue about despite the fact that you probably expect me to know–"

"I'm fine, Rodney," John growled. He took a step forward, forcing Rodney into a shuffling retreat. John stopped suddenly. "Teyla?"

Rodney turned, relief supplanted by worry once again. "She's alive," he said. "But I can't tell anything else."

John knelt stiffly and began running his hands over her body. Any other time, Rodney would have accused him of feeling her up. John sat back on his heels, the skin around his eyes pulled tight. "Where's Ford?"

Rodney shrugged. "Is she okay?"

John stood up, patting at his vest pockets and checking the gun in his thigh holster. "How long ago did he leave?"

"Maybe five minutes," he answered. It felt like longer, but he knew it wasn't. "What about Teyla?"

"I don't know," John said, already marching toward the rear of the jumper.

"Wait, what are you doing? Ford just tossed you around like loose change and you're going after him? You're obviously concussed. Sit down and think for a minute."

"Stow it, Rodney," John said, too mildly. "Stay with Teyla. I'll be back soon." Then he took off across the clearing, a nightmare come to life.

"Colonel!" Rodney shouted. "Don't you dare do this to me again!"

John held up his hand briefly before disappearing into the trees.

"Fuck!"

He slid down the side of the jumper, dropping his head into his hands. A gnat of some kind buzzed around his ear and he swatted at it absently. The way things were going, it would turn out to be a super-bee with a penchant for astrophysicists. He took a deep breath and resolved to put John out of his thoughts. There was no question of going after him; Teyla was completely vulnerable.

"Right," he muttered. He heaved himself up, feeling drained even though the day had hardly started. He returned to Teyla's side, hesitating just a bit before he tapped her lightly on the cheek. She moaned and grimaced.

"Oh, thank god," he breathed as she opened her eyes. A tendril of hair lay across her face, and without stopping to think he brushed it aside. "How do you feel? Do you remember anything? What's my name? Wait, what's your name?"

She blinked repeatedly, and he forced himself to be quiet. She moaned again as she struggled to sit up. He put his arm behind her back as she settled onto her elbows. She kept blinking rapidly, looking at him as if she were having difficulty seeing.

"I am Teyla Emmagan," she answered, her voice as strong as always. "You are Dr. Rodney McKay, and I feel like an ocholon kicked me in the head."

Rodney snorted with relief more than anything. "Yes, well I have no idea what that is, but it's probably not far from the truth. Do you remember what happened?"

Teyla began nodding, but then reached for her head. He tried to coax her back down to the deck, but she wouldn't let him. She was at least as stubborn as John.

"Yes," she said dully. She looked around the jumper, turning her head slowly and carefully. "Colonel Sheppard?"

Rodney held himself still as fury returned. "The idiot went after Ford," he ground out.

Teyla frowned. "Help me up," she said, reaching for his arm. They stood in a maneuver slightly more graceful than the one he and John had performed minutes ago. The whole morning had been one horrible moment of deja vu after another. "We must go to him," she said. "Aiden is not himself."

"That's the understatement of the year," he said under his breath. He looked her over, trying to decide if she was really okay. It would be reckless to go after John if it endangered Teyla in the process, no matter how much he wanted to do so. "Are you sure you can do this?"

Teyla smiled weakly. Her hair was mussed and she still squinted slightly. He also thought she was leaning to one side. "Yes." She paused, then added, "Aiden is much stronger than he used to be."

Rodney nodded. He'd noticed that fact when John went flying through the air. "Like a Wraith."

Teyla started to bend down, but stopped halfway. He spotted her P90 and reluctantly handed it to her. She took it without a word, her face set in determination. Rodney resettled his own P90 and headed out the hatch.

The sun was bright, well on its climb to the zenith, and the morning air was warmed to a slight stickiness. The tall grass was at its itchy worst, and the small gnats buzzed constantly. All the irritations faded to petty annoyances in the back of his mind, as they always did when he was focused on a problem. There was no need to track anyone; John had to be heading to the ship clearing.

The shelter clearing looked empty, but then again, it had seemed that way when Ford stunned them. He looked at Teyla again, but she was shielding her eyes from the sun and made no move to direct him. Rodney took a deep breath and headed into the open.

Branches rustled as they approached the second tree line, thus far unhindered. Rodney raised his gun, his hands sweaty and his gut rumbling uncomfortably. John emerged a second later. Rodney dropped his gun to the side with a very grateful sigh. A large red spot was starting to darken across John's jawline, and he was moving with a stutter step. Otherwise, he looked in one piece.

"Ford?" Rodney asked.

John shook his head. "Got there in time to see him take off in a dart."

The thought of one of their own blithely using Wraith technology left a bitter taste in Rodney's mouth. "Isn't that nice," he said.

"Are you two okay?" John asked.

"Fine, fine," Rodney said, waving aside his concern, then looked back to make sure Teyla was still there. He saw her start to nod, and then she just sort of...listed to the side.

"Teyla!" John shouted. They both jumped forward, but Rodney was closer. He managed to get under her before she met the ground.

"Damn it," John swore, kneeling beside them. He tapped Teyla's face lightly. She flinched but didn't wake. "Did she vomit earlier? Complain of double vision?"

Rodney shook his head. He shifted Teyla, cradling her against his chest. "No, she said her head hurt and that was it. I think she was bothered by the light, though."

"All right," John said as he rose into a squat. "Let's get her into the shack."

Together, they managed to get her into John's arms. She hardly weighed as much as a naquadah generator. Rodney jogged ahead and pushed through the flimsy door of the hut, holding it open as John carefully squeezed through.

"Can you go get the supplies? Some bedding and the med kit?" John asked.

Rodney left without a word. This time, he ran.

* * *

Something cold brushed her face, wet and very irritating. She swiped at it, but her hand was caught in a warm grip before she could wipe the damp away. She pulled back, and the hand let her go.

"Teyla," someone called softly.

She scrubbed at her cheek. A damp cloth rested against the back of her head, wrapping around to touch her face. She pushed it aside and opened her eyes. John and Dr. McKay hovered above her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice slightly roughened.

John smiled, but it seemed sad somehow. "Not anymore."

Her mouth was dry, and her head ached fiercely. She pushed herself up, both John and Dr. McKay reaching out to assist her. They were in a shadowed room, and she finally realized it was the same rustic shelter that they had passed the night in that first night on the planet.

"I fainted?"

Dr. McKay smiled. "Passed out," he said, then his eyebrows pulled down, his mouth taking a sharp turn to the side. "What do you remember?"

She squinted at him. "This is becoming repetitive."

"Well if you would stop passing out, it wouldn't be an issue," he said mildly, his voice thick and softer than his usual sharp tones.

"Rodney," John said softly. "What do you remember, Teyla?"

She sighed and laid back on the bedding. The throbbing in her head eased as she did so, but she was very tired. "Aiden attacked us, then you went after him alone, and Dr. McKay and I followed. You were unable to stop him," she finished, closing her eyes as the memory returned. She was worried for Aiden, but so very angry with him as well.

Somebody shook her shoulder.

"Stay with us, Teyla," John said. She opened her eyes to see him waving his hand in her face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two, " she said tiredly.

He nodded. "I think you have a concussion. A brain bruise," he added, as if she did not know what that meant. "You need to stay awake."

She raised a hand to cover her eyes, already annoyed by the headache. "I shall endeavor to do so, but I do not promise to be pleasant."

They both laughed. "Well, hell, Teyla," John said. "You can't be any worse than McKay."

"Oh, ha ha," Dr. McKay shot back. "Just because some of us don't feel the need to seduce everything in our path, we get labeled misanthropes."

"Bring out the big words, Rodney. It doesn't change anything."

"Please," she said sharply. She tried to gentle her tone. "Could you speak more softly?"

"Oh sorry, sorry," Dr. McKay whispered loudly. John squeezed her shoulder. They stood and walked away, the scuff of their shoes loud across the floor. They resumed their conversation, but now it was the mere rise and fall of distant male voices, soothing rather than stabbing.

She drifted, the pull of sleep nearly irresistible. She kept jerking awake, trying not to fall asleep. The sound of voices grew louder, strident. She opened her eyes in time to see John storm out of the hut, the rickety door shaking in his wake. Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched Dr. McKay watching the door, his whole body stiff and poised as if for a fight.

"Is there a problem?"

He turned his head toward her, but his eyes took a moment to leave whatever they were watching. "Ah, good, you're still awake," he said finally, and then turned away from her to occupy himself with something on the floor.

Teyla clenched her back teeth, but that aggravated the pain in her head. She breathed through her nose, then relaxed her jaw and let the air flow out her mouth. "At what point did you determine that I was brain-damaged?"

Dr. McKay spun around, his eyes wide. "What?"

"I was unaware that you considered me of insufficient intelligence to grasp whatever situation has occurred."

He gaped at her in a most satisfying way–until he shook his head once. "Please. I consider everyone but myself to be of insufficient intelligence to grasp much of anything."

She waited, but he did not add anything. "So then you should be used to explaining yourself to others," she prompted. "What has happened?"

Dr. McKay sighed, tossing the protein bar in his hand to the ground. "Colonel Sheppard is having some difficulty grasping the hard truths of our situation. He's off taking a little stroll through the park while I play the good wife back here."

 _The wife?_ =she wanted to ask, but Teyla reminded herself not to get distracted by Dr. McKay's idiosyncrasies. She rubbed her eyes as she asked, "And what are the hard truths of the situation?"

"I was getting to that," he muttered, but Teyla recognized another stalling tactic. That was unusual; in the past he had been more than forthright about the details of their endangerment. She waited impatiently as he turned to face her. He sat down awkwardly next to the sleeping bag.

"Fact," he said sharply. "Lieutenant Ford has taken the power supply to the jumper. Fact: The stargate is in orbit around the planet. Fact: No one on Atlantis knows where we are." He sighed again, then met her eyes. "Fact: Lieutenant Ford is highly unstable, to the point of being dangerous to our own well-being. Fact: I cannot make the jumper fly without those power crystals."

He paused, tilting his head backwards as the corner of his mouth dipped into a bitter, twisted smile before he looked back at her, face serious. "Supposition: We are stuck here for the rest of our natural lives unless Lieutenant Ford comes to his senses."

Teyla frowned. "But surely Dr. Weir will send a team after us. Even if–"

He huffed. "Yes, of course Elizabeth will send a team. But it was pure chance that we found the right gate address in the first place. If the colonel hadn't talked to that boy, if he hadn't mentioned the forbidden addresses, if I hadn't been smart enough to figure out how to dial star sixty-nine, if Ford hadn't just been through the gate in the last day, we wouldn't even be here. The odds are astronomical that the same chain of events will occur to lead them to us."

It was a strange sensation. Realization broke apart, hitting different parts of her body in drawn-out moments. First her breath locked in her chest, then a tingling chill crawled up her lower back. The tips of her fingers felt huge and extraordinarily sensitive. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she laid back down to wait it out.

"Surely Aiden will return," she said faintly.

"Yes, that is a possibility," Dr. McKay agreed, but she could tell he did not believe it.

She swallowed heavily. Her thoughts spun and looped. Halling and her people, who had already grown too distant, would be lost to her forever. They would be dependent on the good will of Dr. Weir and the Earthers, without Teyla to intercede when tempers grew hot.

She turned her head to the side, blinking away wetness. Aiden would not abandon them, even if their encounter earlier had not gone well. She could not, would not believe that he would. They might be on this world longer than they had originally foreseen, but that could be dealt with. Later, when she felt better, she would make plans to see them through until Aiden returned.

* * *

John eased the door shut, though his care didn't really matter. Both Teyla and Rodney watched him–no sneaking back in this evening. Teyla was propped up against one of the bedrolls. She looked tired, and in pain, but more alert than she had been when he'd left.

Rodney just looked pissed.

John sighed. He couldn't blame Rodney at all. He'd left his teammates behind, not once but twice, and he knew that Rodney hated him for it. It was a damned irresponsible thing to do, and John would have reamed any soldier good in his place. Rodney was going the silent route, however, which John had found to be much more effective than any in-the-face lecture he'd ever received.

"How're you feeling, Teyla?"

She smiled slightly, a polite lift of her lips that did nothing to convey happiness. "Better, although my head still hurts."

John nodded as he knelt beside her. He grasped her chin and tilted her head toward the light, waiting as she fought against the instinct to close her eyes. Her pupils looked even, thank goodness. He hadn't been sure before. A minor concussion, if that.

He sat back on the gritty floor, a small groan escaping as his own bruises made themselves known. He was tempted to find one of the cool packs from the med kit and curl up in his sleeping bag, but there were still things to be done.

"Let's talk about options," he announced. Silence answered him. Teyla inclined her head, obviously waiting. He didn't bother to look at Rodney; John could feel the force of his glare like a sunburn on his back. "O-kay. So. McKay doesn't think he can get the jumper flyable. So we try something else. Can we make some kind of beacon, some way we can alert Atlantis to our whereabouts?"

Rodney threw up his hands. "Yes, good, let's hang up a neon sign flashing 'free all-you-can-eat buffet' for the Wraith. Any other stupid ideas you'd like to share? Because really, I'm just warming up. Two for the price of one, I'll be here all night."

John grit his teeth, trying not to lash back. Rodney rarely aimed the worst of his cutting remarks at John, and he'd forgotten how irritating it could be. It didn't help that he should have thought of the Wraith threat himself.

"Fine," he said. "What about boosting the remote dial, getting a quick signal through that way?"

"That's–" and Rodney paused, his face going slack with thought, and John knew he had him. "A good idea, actually. If," he said, raising a warning finger, "if I can actually do it, which is a very big if. There's still the power issue, and it's not without danger. Ford said the Wraith will be close soon."

Ford. John rubbed a hand over his eyes, careful to steer around the puffy area under his cheekbone. He was more than amazed the blow hadn't broken his jaw, let alone knocked out any teeth. Yet another rescue mission gone horribly wrong. At least he hadn't woken an entire species of man-hunting aliens this time.

"Good enough," he told Rodney. "Just worry about making it work."

Rodney nodded, and that felt like more than it should be. John relaxed against the wall, letting the cool of the stone soak into the stiff muscles of his back.

"We should consider our supplies," Teyla said quietly. "I inventoried the rations earlier, and they will last us a week, perhaps more."

And even if Rodney had a breakthrough, they might be stuck waiting for the Wraith to move on for longer than a week. Water wasn't an issue, shelter was sufficient for their current environment, but food could definitely become a problem.

"I guess that means hunting," he said, wrinkling his nose a little at the thought. He'd never been a fan of the fresh-from-the-field menu. "Have you seen any good prospects?"

Teyla did that odd little head tilt, the one that said yes and no at the same time. "There are some large rodents that should prove sufficient, at least for the short term. If we have wire or cording I can build snares."

"Fishing line," Rodney said suddenly, and John nodded.

"There should be some in one of the kits. Will that work?"

"We shall see," she hedged.

"What about fishing?" John asked.

She shrugged. "I have not seen any fish in the streams yet, but then, I was not searching for them. Perhaps there is a better location away from this area. We could follow the streams to their confluence."

John shook his head. "No, I don't want to leave this area. Ford could show up any time, and we need to be here when he does."

"Why, so he can beat the snot out of you again?" Rodney asked, more worry than snap to the question.

"We'll just have to be careful not to provoke him," John said patiently, hoping against hope that was true. He didn't want to fight Ford in an effort to save them all. "He told us himself that he was amped up on something the Wraith did to him. It's not his fault."

Rodney didn't look pacified. "He could have killed you." He glanced over at Teyla, then back at John. "We were lucky. Don't pretend that Ford's not dangerous just because he's a friend."

"I'm not," John snapped. A tense silence filled the small room. John found himself missing the constant hum of Atlantis, the sound of people always in the background somewhere. Here, there was nothing but an occasional rattle of the wind and the high-pitched drone of insects. Not enough sound to drown out the thoughts he didn't want to have, like the possibility that Rodney might not be Superman this time, or that Ford might end up an enemy.

"Anything else we should focus on?" John asked finally.

Teyla shook her head fractionally. Her eyes were looking glazed again, probably both from pain and exhaustion. It was probably safe for her to sleep if he woke her on occasion. He looked over at Rodney, but Rodney was tapping away at his tablet notebook, his brows drawn in concentration.

John sighed, and settled more comfortably against the wall. He'd take a twenty-minute power nap, then check their perimeter again. Tomorrow they'd see about making their stay a little more comfortable.

* * *

Teyla rose from her squat, satisfied that the run she had spotted was from one of the planet's small rodent species. She backtracked to the stream where Dr. McKay was waiting, and squatted down on the bank. The motion wasn't as smooth as it should be; though she felt much better after two days of rest, her muscles were stiff and she still had a slight headache.

"Please hand me one of the snares," she asked Dr. McKay as she coated her hands in the sticky mud. He handed her the loop of cording without a word, and she rubbed it thoroughly with the mud.

"Follow me," she told him, "but try not to touch the area where I am setting the trap. You will leave your scent, and the animals will avoid it."

"Of course," Dr. McKay said, picking up the pack with their supplies and falling in step behind her. "Is that what the mud's for? To mask the scent?"

She inclined her head as she navigated away from the stream. She did not want to disrupt the area more than necessary, but she feared that it would be unavoidable with Dr. McKay following her. Still, he would not learn if she did not teach him. She had been surprised when he had volunteered to accompany her, but she suspected that he was becoming discouraged with his efforts to get them back to Atlantis.

"Stop there," she said, indicating a fallen log not far from the area she had chosen.

"Okay, right," he said, and sat heavily. "So, the idea is to get the animal to run into the loop, right?"

Teyla began tying the end of the cord to the sapling next to the break in the undergrowth. "Yes. There are several methods to anchor the snare, but you must keep the noose at head height so it catches around the neck. The animal then strangles as it attempts to get free."

"Ah," Dr. McKay said. "Is that, uh, really necessary? I mean, of course it's necessary, food and all, but it seems a little, I don't know, barbaric?"

Teyla turned back toward him. "Barbaric?"

He smiled wryly. "Never mind," he said and waved her to continue.

She watched him for another moment, but he just raised his eyebrow and waved again. Teyla returned to her work, snugging the cord against one of the small branches before she began adjusting the position of the noose.

"It bothers you, does it not?"

"I wouldn't exactly say it bothers me," Dr. McKay hedged. "It's just that they're so small, and defenseless, and gee wouldn't it be nice if we had an endless supply of PowerBars."

Teyla smiled at his attempt to hide his compassion with humor.

"I suppose this is old hat for you," he continued. "Getting back to basics."

She checked the snare over one last time. She was once again reminded of how little the Earthers knew of her people.

"Not really, no," she told him. "I have not done this since I was a child." The feel of the muddy cord brought back bittersweet memories of her father teaching her the basics of survival. She had been so eager to learn, but she could empathize with McKay's discomfort. She remembered tears streaming down her cheeks as she beheld her first catch, a small echen–limp, fuzzy, and still warm. Her father had been kind but firm as he reminded her of the realities that faced them. Their people had to be prepared for any eventuality.

"Oh," Dr. McKay said, and then he fell silent.

Teyla worked her way back to his position, debating where to lay the next snare. By the stream itself, where the animals watered? She began to retrace their steps.

"Can I ask you something, Teyla?"

The question surprised her. Dr. McKay was rarely tentative, and she wondered what he might want to know.

"Of course," she told him. "You may ask anything of me."

He did not answer immediately. She assumed he was concentrating on navigating through the woods. It was far from an old forest, and the undergrowth was thick away from the trails. All of the land she had seen thus far told a tale of past inhabitants, despite the relative lack of structures. She was sure this world had been culled to extinction some time in the past.

"Were you and Ford involved?" he asked at last. "You know, romantically?"

Teyla stumbled over a loose rock near the stream bed, catching herself with a hand on one of the sturdier trees. She stopped, feeling like she had been struck a blow. "No," she answered, but her voice was scratchy and she had to repeat herself to be heard. "We were not."

That would have been sufficient with most people, but then, Dr. McKay was not most people. "It's just that you called him Aiden several times," he continued. "Colonel Sheppard explained your custom, and I thought maybe–"

She turned to face him, and she did not know what was showing on her face, but he fell silent. His eyebrows were quirked with worry, and his face was slightly pink. Teyla took a deep breath.

"Aiden is my friend," she told him. "But there have been times that I thought we might become more." Times when his warm eyes sparkled with interest, and times they grew black with concern. Her stomach felt like it had knotted itself into an unworkable tangle. "It is not something I dwell upon."

Dr. McKay nodded. "I'm sorry."

She held his eyes, uncertain of what to say. The woods grew active as they stayed silent, distant birds singing and flies buzzing nearby. Teyla found that she wanted to tell him more, tell him about her concerns and her hopes, about the ways that Aiden had supported her through difficult times. But she could not find the words.

"Rodney," he blurted.

"Excuse me?"

Dr. McKay rolled his eyes. "I mean, you should call me Rodney. You know, if you'd like. There's no reason to call me doctor."

Some of the knot melted away with happy surprise. "You do not have to permit that out of a sense of obligation," she told him anyway.

He snorted. "Please. When have you known me to do something because of societal expectation?"

She tried to gauge his sincerity. "Very well, Rodney," she smiled. He smiled back warmly. "Thank you."

The moment dragged out into awkwardness as neither of them found anything to say. Teyla turned back toward the stream. "We should resume our work. We have to place many snares in order to capture one animal."

"Ah, yes," Rodney said from behind her. "Probability. I wonder if there's a way to determine the best ratio of snares to rabbits per plot of land."

Teyla smiled as he continued to discuss applying mathematics to hunting. She did not understand much of what he said, but that did not matter at all.

* * *

The big continent was coming up again, the jagged line of the shelf growing on the curve of the planet. Aiden decided he was going to name that one New Chicago, 'cause it kind of looked like a bear. He wasn't so sure of the others, two small chunks of land on the other side of the planet that didn't look like much of anything. Maybe on the next swing he'd figure out the smallest one. If not, well, he didn't have much else on his schedule.

He tried to look away as the land mass grew, but his eyes were drawn to the same spot every time he circled the planet. A few hundred miles interior of the coastal mountain range, but before the major river system that cut the continent in half. They were down there somewhere. He couldn't pick out their lifesigns from that of the flora and fauna, which made him grateful and worried at the same time. The Wraith would have to get closer to the planet to notice three lone humans, and they had no reason to do so. The advance ships had already passed through the system without paying any attention to this planet.

Aiden sighed. The memories just kept replaying in his head, every step he'd taken on the cruiser two days ago. Foot soldiers everywhere, but they were dumb, never doing anything unless one of the fancy dudes told them to. The key was to blend in, follow along, don't call any attention to his differences, then slip in and make his move. The whole ship smelled like frogs, like summer evenings gigging on the pond with his grandpa. Didn't sound like it, though. Just the heavy steps of the soldiers and the weird hum of the ship.

There was always a lab. Slip in, hold out his arm, get a shot of the goo. The witch doctor dude never asked anything, not on any of the ships he'd infiltrated. The Wraith couldn't conceive of their food trying anything so ballsy. That was fine with him; walking right into the engine room for a little sabotage was beyond easy. He remembered the old Dr. Weir talking about the Ancients trying to negotiate, of all things, and then tucking tail and running when their fancy ships and satellites didn't work. He bet they'd never tried taking the fight to the Wraith.

He rubbed at the weird ridges on the side of his face. Going on three months now, stealing meds and blowing up engines whenever he could, and every mission had kept getting easier. Until this last one. He knew they all kept a supply of humans, had even seen the cocoons a time or two, but those had only held dead bodies, desiccated husks that he could ignore. This time, right after he'd gotten the shot, he'd passed by a honeycomb of people, wrapped and paralyzed but still alive.

He'd expected the fury, and the disgust. There was no way in hell he'd been prepared for the...yearning that ate at him. He'd wanted to touch those people and see what was inside.

Aiden shuddered and pushed the thought away. New Chicago was drifting away below him, taking away the temptation to see his team again. They were safe down there, he knew that, even if he couldn't see them on his display. Teyla was too big of a bad-ass to let anything take them down, and Dr. McKay would either think or talk a problem to death. And Major Sheppard was too stubborn to let anything happen to his people.

He smiled. No, his team would be just fine. There wasn't any reason to go looking in on them like they were babies. Aiden had his own mission to worry about.

* * *

Rodney stared at the stew pot perched precariously over the open flames, thinking about internal combustion engines as steam escaped from the lid. If only. Ancient technology was so far beyond that stage that to even contemplate some kind of interface between the two was ludicrous. Not that he could make an engine if he wanted to; twigs and stones were fine for a cooking fire, but didn't do much for creating and harnessing explosive power. No, he'd need to find metal ore, and mine it, smelt and cast it, all of which would take most of a single lifetime with the equipment he had now.

He might as well resign himself to squirbit stew for a very long time. The snares they had set had yielded a catch after only a day. He wondered if they'd have to worry about overhunting, or if the population would increase to keep up with their predation.

"I don't think it's going anywhere, Rodney."

He blinked, breaking away from the state he'd been locked in. John was squatting beside the fire, cautiously lifting the lid of the pot.

"No, that seems to be the common theme lately," he muttered. John ignored him.

"Well, it doesn't smell awful," John said, wrinkling his nose as he peered through the steam. "Maybe it won't be so bad."

Rodney snorted. "What do you care? Don't they train you to eat dead opossum and worms?"

John rolled his eyes. "I'm not a Marine, Rodney. We don't feel it's necessary to prove our masculinity by playing chicken with botulism."

"No, no, you just like to perform death-defying acts at speeds humans were not meant to survive, encased in a flimsy metal shell kilometres above nice, safe land."

John grinned, and Rodney could see the stereotypical flyboy come out to play. "Well, yeah, but that's fun." All he needed were those aviator shades and a bevy of blonde bombshells hanging off his arm, and John could have his own leading role in an eighties movie. Top Air Dog, or Steel Eagles, or something equally as ridiculous.

Rodney shook his head and let it go. He had to admit that flying the puddlejumper was a hell of a thrill. He had a lot more faith in Ancient engineering than he did human, though. John peered back down at the pot, shrugged, and dropped the lid.

"At least we won't starve to death," he said to John. "Die of misaligned discs, that's a distinct possibility."

Teyla returned from wherever she'd been, stopping to check the stew before she seated herself across from Rodney.

"The floor's better than a lot of ground we've slept on, McKay."

Rodney shrugged. "Which isn't saying much. Why didn't the SGC think ahead and pack inflatable mattresses? They don't take up that much room."

"And we wouldn't even need an air compressor with you around," John said quietly, just loud enough that Rodney knew John was trying to get a rise out of him.

"Oh, ha ha. I'm just saying, a fighting force would be that much more efficient if they weren't creaking and groaning every day because they had to sleep on the ground."

"I agree," Teyla said.

"Really?" Rodney asked, rather surprised that someone as tough and used to hardship as Teyla would admit to such a thing.

She nodded. "It would not be difficult to fashion a mattress from these grasses," she said, pointing to the waving green that surrounded them. "Once dried, they would provide some padding under our bedding."

"Oh, fabulous," he said. "We can use one of the tarps as a casing. Wait. What about mold? And are we sure the grass is safe? I don't want to die in my sleep from my lungs shutting down."

"You walk through it every day, Rodney," John said, but Teyla cocked her head to the side, looking thoughtful.

"I do not believe it will cause any problems," she said. "It will need to dry thoroughly, and we must take care to not let it get damp. But I think it is worth the attempt. If it is not successful, we do not have to use it."

Rodney smiled at the thought of honest-to-goodness padding. "That's an excellent point," he conceded. "Very practical."

Teyla smiled back at him. He turned to John, waiting for some smart remark about his practicality, but John was staring off into the distance, making a face similar to when he'd checked out the stew.

"Mowing the lawn, huh?" John asked, still not looking at Rodney. He stood up, brushing at the back of his pants. "We'll take care of it, and you come up with a way to get us home."

John pulled out his knife and Teyla followed suit. Rodney watched them, John's optimism a wedge in his throat that pretty much killed his appetite.

* * *

John tossed a twig into the fire, watching the sparks spin upwards on the heat draft, then get tossed to the side as the cooler breeze gusted. His stomach was full, but he felt far from sated. Nearly a week of mostly wild game, barely enough of their diet supplemented by divvied-up MRE's to make a difference. The thought of a stale cracker with lumpy jelly made his mouth water like crazy. If they were here much longer, they'd have to start experimenting with the local vegetation. If, he told himself. If.

He was warm from the fire, so he slipped off his jacket, wadded it into a ball for a pillow, and lounged back to stare up at the sky. His eyes slowly recovered from the fire dazzle, stars taking the place of the false brightness. So many stars. It was a decectively beautiful sight. He'd never be able to look up again without knowing the truth. When he was younger, he'd dreamed of flying among the stars, finding peace and connection and everything else he'd wanted. Now the stars were simply a reminder of their enemies out there.

Rodney stirred beside him, tossing a twig of his own into the fire. John could see the sparks rise in his peripheral vision. Something about fire was magnetic to the human soul. Teyla had bragged to him that first day that her people had mastered fire. He thought that was overly hopeful. Men could do a lot with fire–roast rodents, power jets, make hive ships explode–but that wasn't the same as mastery.

"Do you think we should try some different type of hunting, Teyla?" Rodney asked. It was out of the blue, his voice loud in the quiet, but John was deep enough into his own thoughts that the sudden intrusion didn't bother him. "Give the squirbits a rest?"

Teyla said something, but John was busy trying to process Rodney's last statement into something that made sense. Usually he only had a hard time following Rodney when Rodney went into theoretical astrophysicist mode. "Squarebit? Is that what you said?"

John could feel their stares in the sudden silence, the crackle of the fire loud and close. He bet Teyla looked startled, wondering at his rudeness. Rodney was probably rolling his eyes and deciding whether he was worth answering.

"Squirbit, Colonel. As in a cross between squirrel and rabbit?"

John snorted. "That's as bad as anything Ford's ever come up with. No more naming for you, either."

The silence was different this time. Fraught. Waiting. John swallowed and concentrated on the stars. There was an elongated loop that reminded him of the fall of fireworks on the fourth of July. The purple and green kind.

Rodney laughed softly. "He was always suggesting new ones whenever you were out of earshot," he said quietly. "Remember that horsecart back on M3-995?"

"He called it a," Teyla paused, her voice incredulous, "booger?"

"A boogy," Rodney corrected with a laugh. "Because it was a buggy that looked like it was dancing."

"No," John ordered flatly.

"No?" Rodney asked, a moment before Teyla's "Is there something wrong?"

John sat up, blinking at the brightness of the fire. "We are not doing this. Ford isn't dead, and we're not going to sit around eulogizing him."

"Excuse me? We're just talking."

John picked up a fat stick and poked the fire. "No, you're not just talking. You're sitting around remembering all the good things about the friend you've lost. Believe me, I've heard it all before, and we're not doing it for Ford. Not yet, not ever if I can help it."

Another twig came flying at the flames. "And how do you intend to do that, Colonel? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like we're stuck on this planet, awaiting the good lieutenant's whim to come back and save our asses. That's assuming he doesn't get himself killed doing whatever crazy thing he's off doing."

John shoved against one of the logs, snapping his stick in half. "Why do you have to be so damn pessimistic all the time, Rodney?"

"Why can't you accept reality?"

He tossed the other end of the stick into the flames. "I'm very aware of reality, McKay. I just don't give up when things get a little hard."

That was harsh–too harsh, not to mention untrue. Rodney should have his head for it, but he didn't say a word. John thought about apologizing, but he was so sick of the what-ifs and things he couldn't fix, sick of the thought of Ford out there by himself, that his tongue tangled on all of the different things he wanted to say.

"I simply want to talk about my friend," Teyla said. "Is that so wrong?"

He shook his head, then got to his feet. Teyla was always so sure of herself, always so sure of the right path. He liked that about her, but it also drove him nuts when the only thing he could see was a tangle of bad and worse choices.

"You do that," he told her, and then gave in to the urge to get away. He stalked toward the northern woods, figuring he'd give the jumper a once-over. They were getting lax with security, not even bothering to keep watch at night anymore. But the planet was barren, and the door to the cabin was so damn creaky Ford wouldn't be able to sneak in. Sharing a bed together kept them warmer, anyway, even if it was a little cramped.

John was being an ass and he knew it. Rodney was right. John had never known anyone as brilliant as Rodney, and sometimes he thought Rodney could do anything he set his mind to doing. But John knew that something couldn't be created from nothing–not without some Ancient handwaving, anyway. They couldn't even figure out how to send a signal home. They were stuck here–Rodney and Teyla were exiled from everyone and everything they cared about–unless Ford came to his senses.

Unless Ford had some sense knocked into him.

It was a hell of a thing, having to choose between lives, but he'd done it before. He wasn't going to give up on Ford, not yet. But Rodney and Teyla deserved better. Ford was a good kid, a great second in command, maybe a even a brother in some ways. He was military, though, a Marine.

As John waded through the thick grass of the second clearing, he knew that he would do whatever he had to do. That didn't stop the sick feeling in his gut that had nothing to do with squirbit stew. He opened the jumper hatch, climbed in, and shut it behind him. He headed right to his seat and settled in. It was too dark outside for anything to show through the hazy front screen, but he stared at it anyway.

John ran his hands over the controls, but they were only dead cylinders, nothing more than joysticks on a broken video game. His thumbs worked restlessly over the strange plastic-y feel of them as he finally acknowledged the truth that had been hiding in the back of his mind for a very long time.

He would choose Rodney and Teyla over Aiden.

John let go of the controls and sat back, snugging his hands under his armpits. He wasn't sure what he wouldn't do for Rodney and Teyla, and that scared him more than the Wraith.

* * *

If he didn't know better, Rodney would say they were completely oblivious to his presence. But he did know better, and he was sure that even though Teyla and John seemed intent only on each other, on the sticks flying between them, that they had noticed him as soon as he had taken a seat.

The sky was hazy, that late afternoon aqua that came before the red shift of the setting sun. It'd be dark in a few hours, but for now the light was good, the air was warm but not too warm, and John and Teyla looked like they planned on going at it until it was too dark to see. John had been withdrawn the past couple of days, and Rodney thought he was trying to burn off whatever was bothering him.

Rodney had seen them spar before, a few times, but he had always taken surreptitious glances, not wanting to intrude, not wanting to look too interested. But right now they were the equivalent to TV, the movies, and a good book all rolled into one, so he watched. John was much better than he used to be. Teyla was in control, but John pressed her closely. Rodney tried to watch for the individual movements, tried to notice their technique, but they moved so quickly and smoothly that it was impossible.

John burst into motion, his sticks beating down against Teyla's over and over furiously, driving her into retreat. Rodney felt himself standing, disconnected, worried, as suddenly John planted a foot behind her own and hooked an arm across her neck.

John went flying.

Rodney sat back down.

Teyla kicked the stick John still had out of his hand, then pressed a knee into his chest. Rodney could only see the side of her face; her hair wild and free, strands stuck to her cheek and neck with sweat, her lips pursed and her eyebrow arched. He wasn't sure if she was pissed or not, but she looked fierce.

"I think perhaps we are done for the day," she told John. They held the pose for a long moment. Rodney couldn't see John's face at all, but he was probably scowling, grumpy that Teyla was calling the shots. Then she stood back and extended a hand, helping John up. They did the forehead thing before they both turned towards Rodney, faces almost identically bland and pleasant.

"Rodney," John said, and Teyla nodded.

"Have fun getting the crap beat out of yourself, Colonel?"

John smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile. Rodney tensed, knowing that something bad was coming.

"Oh, I had a great time," John said. "But I've been thinking. We should really spend some more time working on your defensive abilities. Say, right now."

Oh, yes. Definitely bad. "I don't see the point," he protested quickly. "Trapped on an empty planet, remember? Not a lot of bad guys to beat up." Or be beaten up by, which was by far the more likely scenario.

John crossed his arms, retrieved sticks poking out like skeletal fingers. "You never know when you're going to have to defend yourself," he said. "I think it's a very good idea."

Rodney crossed his own arms. "Well, I don't."

John dropped his arms with a gusty sigh. "Look. Just try. It might make a difference some day."

Rodney glanced at Teyla, who was watching them carefully. It occurred to him that John had pretty much volunteered her as well.

"I will not hurt you, Rodney," she said quietly.

He somehow doubted that, though he was sure she'd be a lot nicer to him starting out than she was to John. He looked back at John, already feeling himself giving in, but not quite ready to concede yet. Maybe it was the way John wouldn't quite meet his eyes, or maybe it was the honest concern in his voice.

"I'll do your weapon maintenance today," John wheedled, completely losing his hard-ass command attitude. Rodney nearly laughed, but he knew a good deal when he heard one. Not that he couldn't handle something as simple as cleaning his gun, but he wasn't going to let that offer go.

"Fine," he said. "I suppose I can work it into my pressing schedule this afternoon."

John grinned at him. He grinned back.

Then John handed him the sticks, and Rodney remembered what he'd volunteered to do. Teyla stepped forward as John walked over to the sitting rock. She simply began explaining how to hold the sticks properly, however, and he relaxed a little. Soon enough they were going through the different steps and stances, which weren't too bad. He felt like a lumbering giant next to her, slow and stiff and awkward, but she was very patient. Nothing like he'd be if he were teaching, that was for sure.

"Let us try a basic attack and response," she said, and his stomach knotted up again.

"I will step forward and swing at you, and you step back, into the defensive position, and bring your stick up to block my own."

They stepped through the exercise very slowly, and Rodney nodded. Not so bad. Then Teyla increased the pace a little. He started to get frustrated. At least one in three of her attacks got through, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He couldn't get the rhythm down at all. He was either moving too fast or too slow or in the wrong direction. He stopped, dropping his arms to the side.

"I'm doing this wrong," he said with disgust.

Teyla smiled, still encouraging. "You are doing fine. Do not be so hard on yourself."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, good. Now quit pampering me and tell me what I'm doing wrong."

He could tell he'd surprised her. She frowned in thought, licking her lips once before she nodded.

"Think of it as if I am the fire, leaping forward with great force and energy. You are water, ebbing gently away only to surge forward and quench my flames."

Rodney blinked back at her. He found himself fighting down a blush as he tried to decipher what she had said. "Oh. That's very, uh, poetic," he groped. And it made about as much sense as poetry, but he wasn't about to tell her that when she had those sticks ready and waiting.

Teyla inclined her head. "It is a metaphor, a way of thinking about movement. When one takes the form of water, one may retreat like a river flowing away, or one may attack like a great storm surge. It is not strength or weakness, merely being."

Rodney nodded. "Right. Flowing. I can do that." Or he could pretend until she knocked him on his ass, and they all came to the mutual realization that stick-fighting was not for astrophysicists.

John cleared his throat, right behind him, and Rodney tried not to jump out of his skin.

"Think of it this way," John said, holding his hands up in front of him in explanation. "When she attacks on a straight line, you need to get off of that line. So you step out and back at a forty-five-degree angle, and she can't reach you."

The words made more sense, and as John nodded to Teyla and they moved to demonstrate his point, it all clicked into place. There was a geometrical logic to their motions, one that should be simple enough to recreate. If he could make his body do it, of course.

"You see?" John asked.

Rodney nodded, feeling much more confident. "I think so. Can we try it again?"

Teyla squared up with Rodney as John moved out of the way. As she stepped forward, he stepped for the forty-five. It was a bit clumsy, but her stick missed him.

"Very good," Teyla said, smiling at both of them. "Now attack."

Rodney stepped back onto the line, bringing his right stick forward to snap against Teyla's.

"Good," she crooned, "now again, a little faster."

They repeated the combination several times, increasing the tempo slightly each time. Rodney failed to get out of the way on the last, and Teyla's stick tapped his shoulder yet again. He winced, but she was obviously taking it easy on him.

"Now what did I do wrong?"

"It is only a matter of letting the motion become natural," Teyla said gently. "You are concentrating too much on stepping, and that takes time."

"Yes, tell the genius not to think. That'll work," he muttered, but it was only half-hearted. He found that he really wanted to get this right, and it was irritating that his usual gifts were hampering him.

He did jump this time when John snuck up behind him, but that was mostly because of the warm hand suddenly on his lower back. John rarely touched anybody, and usually it meant something bad was happening.

"Easy, McKay," John said, soft and deep, right in his ear. A thumb stroked over the tension in his lumbar muscles. "Just let yourself go with it."

He had a moment of panic as John hooked his fingers in his waistband, remembering childhood depantsings, but then Teyla took her position. She stepped forward to attack, and–- He was yanked backwards, dragged by John's hand in his pants. Rodney kept his feet, but just barely.

"Jesus!" he yelled after he recovered enough to realize he had landed perfectly out of the way of Teyla's strike. "Warn a guy next time."

John snickered, a wholly unpleasant noise, then thumped Rodney lightly on the back. "Did you feel that? No standing up when you move. You just sort of let yourself fall into position."

Falling was exactly the right word. He turned to glare at John. "How was I supposed to feel anything? I was too busy not landing on my ass."

"Exactly," John agreed brightly. "Now let's do it again, but pay attention this time."

He grabbed onto Rodney's waistband again, nudging him to turn back to Teyla. She had a small smile on her face, and she nodded before she settled into position again. Then they were moving again. He could feel John behind him, guiding him literally by the seat of his pants, pulling just enough to get him into position without pulling him to the ground.

"Okay, now attack," John said, giving Rodney another tiny push.

Rodney moved forward into his awkward attack. Teyla met his strike easily. He felt bound up on himself, locked in place and weak compared to what he knew was the ideal.

"Wait," John called. Rodney started to turn, but stopped himself as John darted around and knelt in the grass.

"You need to pivot your foot before you step forward again," he said. Then he actually turned Rodney's foot, pivoting it on the heel so his toes pointed more outward. "Otherwise you get hung up."

John looked up, and Rodney had to smile. John looked puzzled for a moment before he grinned back.

"Okay," Rodney told him. He looked back at Teyla, determined to make this work. "Again?"

They began again. He slowly figured out the pivot and got it coordinated with the previous steps. Finally, Teyla stopped.

"Excellent," she said. "Do you feel the motion of the wave? Ebb away, then crash forward?"

Rodney nodded, amazed that the poetic words actually made sense. It was a type of sinusoidal motion, when it came down to it. "I get it." He grinned at her, and she smiled widely enough to show off her beautiful teeth.

"All right," she said. "I believe we shall move on to falls, then."

"On second thought," he said quickly, "I don't think I have the attack thing quite right."

John laughed, but Teyla just looked more predatory.

"Do I have to remind you that the brain is a very delicate organ, and mine is very, very important to our survival?"

"Relax, Rodney," John said. "This is to help you keep that brain safe."

"It is for your benefit," Teyla agreed.

He looked at John, saw that same, carefully guarded something in his eyes as before. "You first," he said.

Teyla smiled. "Of course," she said, and latched on to John's wrist. John threw him a glare, and then Teyla did something to his wrist and John dove to the ground, rolling across his shoulder and coming back up to his feet.

"See," John said. "No problem."

"Great," Rodney muttered, but stepped forward.

* * *

Aiden guided the ship down quickly, eagerly. He was on a huge high–that hive ship was doomed next time it jumped, and they'd have no clue what happened–and he just had to see his team. His friends. He was careful to avoid the maneuvers that made the dart scream like a banshee, but he wanted to loop the loops and do some barrel rolls just because. The juice was singing inside him, pumping him up like nobody's business. This was the shit, man. As nasty as the Wraith were, maybe this one thing wasn't so bad.

He gave in and rolled the dart once as he spotted the jumper. Totally the shit.

* * *

Leaves lashed and branches sawed together as a sudden wind whipped downwards, unlike any storm she had encountered before. A high-pitched hum followed; not the terrifying wail of the Wraith that she was used to, but probably a ship nonetheless. Teyla looked up, but it was impossible to see anything through the thick canopy. Cold clenched in her gut. A split-second debate–back to the camp or forward to the clearing–and then she was running. She pushed her way through the last branches in time to see the strangely gleaming ship touch down amid the flattened grasses.

* * *

They pounded through the trees, not bothering to push stray branches aside, just letting them whip across skin in their haste. John was ahead of him, but not by much. Rodney concentrated on moving, on breathing, on trying not to let fear and worry and hope overwhelm him. It was a vain attempt, but he tried. Hell, the dart might not even be Ford–though it was acting out-of-character for a Wraith.

Just run, he told himself. Just run.

* * *

"Teyla, report," her radio crackled, just as Aiden emerged from the far side of the ship. She stepped forward, his name on her lips, but caution overrode her enthusiasm at the last second. She clicked her radio.

"Lieutenant Ford has returned," she said quietly. "I am at the edge of the south field."

"Stay put," John responded, his voice slightly labored. "We're on our way."

She did not bother answering. Aiden was walking towards her. She could tell the instant he saw her by the toothy grin that spread across his face.

* * *

"Teyla!" Aiden picked up his pace. "How's it going, girl?"

She smiled at him. Damn, she looked good. Her hair was getting long, really long.

"We have been worried," she called to him.

He stopped an arm's length away, trying to hold himself back. He was practically bouncing and vibrating as it was, making it hard to keep his cool. "Aw, don't worry about me," he told her. "I can take care of myself."

"I am aware of that," she said dryly, rubbing at the back of her head. She gave him a meaningful look, and it took him a few seconds to remember that he had knocked her out the last time. Guilt flashed through him, and he stared at her hand, wondering if she was mad.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, but he was distracted from her response when the major burst out of the trees, running full tilt toward them. Aiden fell back into a ready stance. He'd hit the major, too.

"Teyla!" the major shouted, then pulled up into a defensive position to Teyla's right, hands ready on his P90. Aiden watched, waiting.

"Ford," the major drawled. "It's about time you showed up."

Aiden stiffened. It sounded like Sheppard was ready to dress him down, and that wasn't at all what he had in mind when he came back here. He had news–fantastic news–and that didn't jive with the way the major was fondling his gun. Teyla took a half-step forward, putting herself between them.

"Lieutenant Ford was just apologizing for our last encounter," she prompted. Teyla was always working it, always trying to get people to get along. That was, whenever she wasn't kicking ass. Aiden supposed that he should go along with her for now.

"Yes, sir," he said. "I, uh, sometimes get a little crazy. This stuff gives me awesome reflexes," he said, smiling. "I won't hurt anybody, though."

Major Sheppard nodded. "I'd like to believe you, Lieutenant. How about you make a show of good faith, and hand over those crystals for a start?"

It was killing him to resist orders, but they still weren't getting the big picture. "It's not that simple, Major. You don't understand..."

"No, you don't understand," Sheppard butted in. "Oh, and by the way it's 'Lieutenant Colonel' now. Things have changed back on Atlantis. We're in touch with Earth, so the situation isn't as desperate as you're thinking. You don't have to do the personal war thing that you've cooked up in that jar head of yours. We'll help you."

"Everything will be fine," Teyla soothed.

Aiden looked at them, glancing back and forth between them. So, Sheppard had gotten a promotion. Good for him. He wondered what else had gone down while he was gone. He wondered if his grandparents had gotten his letter. And help sounded good–but they didn't have what he had now, didn't have the skills and the strength and ability to blend in that he did. They'd get themselves killed, and the Wraith would keep advancing, and sooner or later the Wraith would end up snacking on Earth. He couldn't let that happen.

"No can do, sir," he said finally, knowing that he'd get flak for it. "You don't know the Wraith like I do. I have to do this."

"Ford," the colonel growled, but Aiden just raised a hand and started backing away. His news would have to wait.

"Look. I just came back to see you guys. I don't need this shit." He glanced around, realizing that something was off. "Where's Dr. McKay, anyways?"

"He's fine. Let's go," Sheppard snapped.

That wasn't an answer. Aiden scanned the tree line, finally sighting blue amongst the green. They had laid a fucking ambush. So not cool.

"No, I don't think so," he said, and walked backwards.

"So help me Ford, I will shoot if I have to!"

* * *

Teyla stared at John. She couldn't believe his threat. John was sighting down his pistol at Aiden, who was already halfway across the field. Teyla started to call to him, but a shot rang out before she could open her mouth.

The field was preternaturally quiet; shock drove away any sound but that of her own blood in her ears. Aiden stopped. The sun was so strong, so bright, but her eyes were filled with the search for red in a field of grey.

"Stand down, Ford, or the next one goes in the leg."

"No!" she shrieked, just as Aiden turned his back on them.

She turned, intending to launch herself at John, but she was too slow. The sun dragged at her limbs, the silence slowed her thoughts, and a second shot rang out. The bloom of red on the back of Aiden's thigh was sudden and small, and she shouldn't have been able to see it. She wished she hadn't seen it. She felt as if she had been shot herself, her stomach tight and her breath painful in her chest.

Aiden turned around. He just looked at John, unmoving, then shook his head. He touched something on his wrist, and one of the Wraith beams shot forward, surrounding him. He disappeared, and a few seconds later the ship lifted from the ground, screaming away from them.

"What the fuck was that?" Rodney shouted from right next to her. She hadn't even noticed his approach. "Is that your solution to everything, Colonel? Got a problem, shoot it?"

John looked over at them, and Teyla gasped. He was pale, almost corpse white-except for the blackness of his eyes. He let his gun arm fall to his side, but she could see his other hand clench and release rhythmically. He laughed once, a high echoing bark that tightened her shoulders.

"Yes, Rodney, it is. It's obviously what I'm good at," he said, and his voice was raspy. John turned away from them, took two steps and then dropped to his knees to vomit.

"Oh, Jesus," Rodney said. "I didn't mean it."

Teyla moved to John's side, touching his arm lightly to offer support. He began retching again, and she moved her hand to his forehead, allowing him to strain against her strength. This was one of the things she remembered of her mother–strong hands holding her against childhood's sicknesses. John's forehead was sweaty but cool against her skin.

Rodney approached, looking worried and slightly nauseated himself.

"Do you have water?" she asked.

He patted his vest, and when he came up empty, immediately ran back toward the forest. It would take him several minutes to return. In the meantime Teyla held onto John as he finished heaving. She rubbed circles between his shoulder blades and stroked the corded muscles of his neck. Finally he sat back on his heels, spitting a few more times. She let go of his forehead, but kept a hand on his back.

"I shot him," John croaked. "Oh god, I'm sorry."

Teyla didn't know what to say. She couldn't grant absolution; she didn't know if she wanted to.

The horrifying moment came back in a flash; bright red exploding against the dark of Aiden's leg. She swallowed, noticing the smell of sickness as she did so.

"Here," she said quietly. "You will feel better once we get away from this mess." She coaxed him to stand. They walked a few paces away, John weaving slightly against her guiding hand.

Rodney pelted into the clearing. "Here," he panted, holding out one of the canteens. John stared at it until Rodney forced it into his hand and toward his mouth.

John took a drink, then spit again. He stared into the distance for a moment, then passed the canteen back to Rodney.

"Sumner asked me to," he said as he did so.

Rodney made a choking sound, and the name clicked into place for her. Colonel Sumner, the leader taken with her by the Wraith. The leader John had been forced to kill to save.

"I know, John," Rodney whispered. "I didn't mean..."

"It's not like I get off on it!" John broke in loudly. "Just...I don't know what to do! I have to save Ford, but I have to keep you two safe, and who knows what's happening on Atlantis because we're not there, and Jesus, don't you guys get it that I don't know what to do!"

* * *

John broke away from Teyla, sliding out of her grasp and striding towards the woods. Fuck. He'd lost it. He never lost it, not when he'd seen his buddies blow up in front of him, not when he was a half a breath from a court-martial, not when he'd shot Sumner. Not when those things had happened, and not after. John took a deep breath, wrinkling his nose at the acid in the back of his nose and throat.

Well, okay, he'd lost it with those aliens who'd been playing mind games with them, but not like this. He'd lost it big time. He'd known it might come to this, had accepted it, played it out in his head–but it wasn't anything like he'd planned.

He'd shot Ford–Aiden. He'd hurt someone under his command, on purpose. Someone who had looked up to him at some point, who had counted on him. And Ford had just looked at John like he'd expected nothing less.

He could hear Rodney and Teyla behind him, just far enough back that they weren't stepping on his heels. Now he had them thinking he was crazy, that he was suffering PTSD or something. Rodney–god, he never wanted to see that look on Rodney's face again. John hadn't meant to bring up Sumner at all, but even now he could see Sumner's blue eyes in his sunken face, begging him to end it.

Okay, so maybe he had a few issues to work out. That didn't mean he got to work them out by losing it in front of his team. He needed to do whatever it took to reassure them. He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the fact that it was shaking. The clearing was just ahead–-he'd sort it out there.

He spun around three steps from the hut. Rodney and Teyla pulled up sharply, barely avoiding running into each other. John forced a friendly, reassuring smile onto his face.

"Sorry for losing it back there," he said quietly, calmly, soothingly. "Bad call, my responsibility. I promise not to shoot anyone else on my team from here on out." And yeah, that was a terrible joke, but he needed to get them all past the trauma. They could be mad at him all they wanted, but he didn't want to see that sick worry on their faces any more.

Teyla reached out, but John shifted so that her hand fell short. "John," she said, her voice so concerned, so gentle that he couldn't stand it. "I do not agree with your decision, but..."

He snorted, interrupting her. Of course. He'd forgotten again how differently they saw things, and suddenly it pissed him off, just like when she had forced his hand with her family friend. "Right. No, you'd never agree to anything so pragmatic, would you?"

John stopped and turned his back on them, realizing that was stupid. He was losing it again, taking out his frustrations on his team. "I'm sorry," he said, spinning back around. "You're right, it didn't accomplish anything. But it was my decision, and I'll live with it. Just like every other decision I've made."

He looked to the sky, not wanting to see their faces.

"John," Rodney said quietly, and he knew he was in trouble if Rodney was using his first name. "It's not your fault."

He shook his head. He tried to smile again, but it was hard with his jaw clenched. "Define fault, McKay, because I don't know what language you're speaking. Every damn thing that's happened to us in this galaxy is my fault, and I'm not exaggerating. I'm the one who found the necklace and turned it on, I'm the one who shot Sumner and woke up the Wraith. Me, McKay, not anybody else. Hell, if I'd blown myself up right, Ford wouldn't be walking around like the Terminator on acid, and you two wouldn't be stuck here for the rest of your lives."

"Fine," Rodney said. It sounded strangled, and John had to look at him. His blue eyes were dark, and they were very, very angry. "Be that way," he spat. "Sulk until your face dries up like a prune, for all I care. I guess I was wrong about you."

Rodney cleared his throat. "I thought you were someone who cared about others, but you only think about your own problems."

John shook his head. He had to give Rodney credit for trying. "That's it, McKay," he said mildly. "Reverse psychology, real impressive."

"Just shut up!"

John did. Rodney closed his eyes. His voice was low when he started speaking again.

"I am sick of your stupid hero complex. Always trying to own everything, like you're so special. Well suck it up, soldier boy. You're not. You want to talk blame? I was the one who figured out how the ZPM worked. We wouldn't even be here without me. I was the one who picked the address for Athos. I showed you the jumpers so you could go wake the Wraith. Hell, I was the one who built the bomb you tried to blow yourself up with, you big dumb bastard."

Rodney fell silent at last. He opened his mouth as if to add something, but abruptly turned away instead. John was shocked. That wasn't reverse psychology. He wasn't sure what it was, because he didn't think Rodney really held himself responsible for all that. He hoped not, anyway. But there was something else, something deeper that was hurting Rodney, and John couldn't stand that.

"Rodney," he called softly.

"What?" Rodney answered sharply, still sounding angry and broken.

John tried for light again. "You know, you're the only person I know of who can brag while trying to make himself look bad."

Rodney snorted. "Well, I am a genius."

"As you so frequently remind us." John smiled a little, but it faded away under all of the ache he just couldn't hold back. "Look. I understand what you're saying,"-–at least, he hoped he did-–"but it's my responsibility to get us through whatever comes our way. I've fucked up too many times. I have to remember my mistakes, so maybe I won't fuck up again. I have to, Rodney."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Teyla shaking her head, but he kept watching Rodney's back, waiting for some sign that things would be okay.

"That is not so," Teyla said. John finally looked at her. "You cannot dwell on the past, and you cannot claim more than your share of the burden." She reached out again, and he let her take his hand. Hers was warm and soft, and very strong. He wanted to cling to it, but he just held it lightly.

"You did not make the Wraith, and they are the ones who carry the blame. You must leave recrimination behind, because there is no room for it in the future. Just be."

He squeezed her hand. Teyla was so strong, and not just physically. He didn't understand how she could keep going, how she could accept him even after what she had seen that afternoon. "I don't know if I can," he said at last.

"I will teach you."

Rodney turned around, but he kept his face averted just a little. "Oh sure, listen to the girl."

John chuckled as Teyla arched an eyebrow. Rodney matched her look, not even bothering to act apologetic.

John squeezed Teyla's hand again and let go. "You think you can teach McKay this being thing, too?"

She smiled, slowly. It was scary and sexy at the same time.

"It will be my greatest challenge," she said.

"Right," Rodney said after a moment. "So, how do we go about doing that?"

"Shall we begin now?"

John wanted to say no. He wanted to get away from them, think about his decisions and what he needed to do for their future, but Rodney's eyes were red and Teyla was tense, her body poised for a fight. They needed reassurance.

"Let's go," he said, and Teyla led them to the practice area.

* * *

Rodney peeked through his slitted eyelids, checking to see if Teyla was watching him. She was leading them through some meditation-type exercise–sitting cross-legged, of course–and he didn't want her to think he wasn't paying attention. But the little insects were buzzing around his ears, and the grass was prickly under his trousers, and thoughts kept running through his head.

He glanced over at John, who seemed to be completely absorbed in his breathing, thank god. Rodney understood John's decision to shoot Ford, but it had shocked him badly when he'd done it. And John had been so devastated–

Rodney closed his eyes, swallowing down the memories. The very worst part, though, was the almost-certainty that Ford wouldn't come back to them. They were stuck here, and Rodney shivered as he realized he hadn't really believed that before. Even as he had been berating John for being an optimist, somewhere deep down he had hoped that someone would save the day. Someone besides himself, because he was out of options. And did that ever suck, because now they were trapped on this planet forever, with no more coffee or PowerBars or hot showers, no more electricity to recharge the laptop. There would be no more late nights zinging ideas back and forth with Radek. No more indulgent smiles from Elizabeth as she waited out his more zealous moments, no more eye rolls from Carson as his gentle hands set things right.

Oh, god. No more medicine. After the antiseptics and antibiotics and painkillers in that tiny medkit ran out, that was it. And if something even slightly serious happened... Each of them knew the basics of first aid, but none of them were trained beyond that. Visions flashed through his mind before he could stop them–of Teyla crumpled and never waking up, John's eyes begging as some wild animal tore his throat out. It wasn't even rampant hysteria. They would all die here, and he could very well be the last, whimpering in pain and fear with no one to help him, no one to comfort him, no one to remember him.

Stop. He had to stop thinking that way. Rodney glanced over at Teyla, so calm, and tried to breathe the way she had taught him. Into the belly, into the chest. Out of the chest, out of the belly, another rolling wave to wash away the fear and anxiety. He did it again, and again, until his body took over and his mind was a little more at ease.

He couldn't help opening his eyes again. Teyla. John. His only companions for the rest of his life. Part of him was sick at himself for being grateful that they were stuck here with him, but he was good at ignoring that part. He wondered if they would get sick of him, or if they would all grow to resent each other. He really, really hoped that didn't happen.

Rodney's chest felt tight again. He concentrated in, in, out, out, and when he finally opened his eyes, Teyla was smiling at him.

The sun was starting to set. He felt fairly calm, so maybe the whole exercise hadn't been a complete waste of time. John nodded at them. He looked better. Not that it took much to look better than a walking corpse. John muttered something about washing up and took off in the direction of the stream. Rodney sighed.

"He will be all right," Teyla said. She sounded calm and confident, but she stared off into the woods after John as she said it.

He sighed again. "Right." He turned away, rubbing at the urge in his fingers to reach out. Athosians did that weird forehead thing–he'd never seen them hug. Besides, he wasn't a touchy-feely guy. And Teyla certainly wasn't some damsel in distress, waiting for him to comfort her with his touch.

Teyla was facing him when he turned back, and the concern in her eyes wasn't just for John. Her eyes were a deep, warm brown, and it occurred to him he'd only see dark eyes for the rest of his life. Except John's eyes weren't really dark, even though they were a weird hazel. John's were light, and Teyla's were dark, locked on Rodney's, and he wanted to reach out to her because damn it, this was a whole different world, and what did it matter if he hadn't been that guy before?

But then she smiled and nodded, and went back to whatever task she had been doing. Rodney swallowed, disconcerted at the lost moment. He shook his head and looked around the clearing. The pile of small stones he had been gathering before Ford appeared were scattered amongst the ragged green stalks. He had knocked them over leaping to his feet. He sighed and began picking them up, but beautiful eyes stayed in his thoughts as he worked.

* * *

Teyla woke suddenly, unsure of what had called her from her dreams. Hot, sleep-steady breath brushed across her the back of her neck, and a warm body pressed against her spine–John, most likely. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of the men next to her and that of the dried grass in their make-shift mattress, but she was quite warm from the bedding and their bodies.

She opened her eyes, intending to assess her surroundings further, but Rodney was staring at her. Her breath caught at the strength of his gaze, and then his eyes flicked over her shoulder to stare at John. He looked worried, as he had whenever he had looked at John that afternoon, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth set. She reached out, wanting to comfort him, and cupped his cheek with her palm.

Rodney's eyes were almost impossibly light in the darkness. She stroked her thumb unconsciously, his skin warm and soft, the fine hairs on his chin tickling her palm. She realized her heart was speeding right before he stretched forward and kissed her. It surprised her, how much she wanted his lips on her own. Teyla slipped her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him toward her as passion flared between them. When he pulled back, they both were breathing fast and shallow. She stared at him in wonder, and a barely-there smile crossed his face. Then he looked past her again, staring towards John.

A hot blush raced under her skin as she realized John was awake and watching. Rodney nudged her, pushing against her shoulder with a firm hand. She rolled onto her back, still pressed against John. The corners of John's eyes were pulled tight into worried crinkles. Rodney took her hand and pulled it toward John's face, repeating the gesture she had used on Rodney moments ago. John's breath fluttered like a frightened animal, and she felt that he would pull away at any second.

So she kissed him.

His lips were full and gentle, brushing over her own with the barest touches even as she tried to capture them. Then Rodney pressed fully against her, anchoring her body against John's tentativeness. John gasped and finally deepened their kiss, sucking at her lower lip and then nipping it. Rodney's hand skimmed over her side, and he pushed her forward with his thighs, pushing her into John's hard body. She understood then; this wasn't about passion or love, not right now. It was something more basic, fear and need, trust and companionship. It was a chance to ground John, to give him something to hold onto while everything else was spinning away. The thought made her heart go out to Rodney, so she pushed her hips backward, grinding into his hard erection as she pulled John closer. Rodney groaned and clutched at her hip.

John pulled back, brushing her cheek with his long fingers. His eyes were shiny and black in the moonlight.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked. "You don't have to–-"

She silenced him with her mouth. He knew her signals well enough from their months of training, and so she only needed the slightest push against his shoulder to get him to roll onto his back. Teyla followed his mouth, anxiety she didn't know she carried falling away at his acceptance. Her heart raced with the strength of his kisses and the feel of his body beneath her. He smelled a little of soap and the dried grass of the mattress below, but mostly he smelled male. She licked his throat, then nipped his skin, trying to immerse herself in that scent.

Rodney closed the distance created by her movement, snugging up against the sides of their bodies. He explored with his hands, almost petting her, working under her top to tickle her side, flowing downward to cup and squeeze her bottom. She and John groaned together as Rodney pushed her down into John's erection.

She sat up, breathless, and looked from one to the other as she made the final decision. Then she stood, and with quick movements pulled off her top and pants.

"Beautiful," Rodney said, and John nodded.

Teyla arched an eyebrow, though she doubted they could see it in the dark. "Well? Do you intend only to watch?"

They exchanged one of their constant shared glances, and then scurried to disrobe. They were both beautiful men; John lean and long like a running antelope, Rodney broad and muscled like a bull. She was not sure what to do first, who to touch and please. They all looked at each other in the blued light–or rather, they looked at her as she looked at them. Finally she rolled her eyes at their combined indecision and stepped forward. Sometimes the only way to learn was by doing.

She approached Rodney first, because she hadn't really had the chance to taste him before. He pulled her flush against himself, and his body felt like warm silk against her skin. She rubbed against him as they kissed, relishing the way his thick hair slid and crinkled against her breasts. He smelled a little different than John, but still utterly masculine. She sucked on his lower lip, and he made a whimpering groan that made her grind into his erection with the beginnings of desperation. John stepped in close behind her. So much warmth, so much softness and strength surrounding her. John nuzzled her neck, then whispered in her ear.

"Lie down."

Rodney must have heard as well, because he stepped back with a lingering brush of her lips. Teyla moved back to the nest of bedding, then knelt. Rodney coaxed her to lay on her back, looking up at John.

"Shall I, or do you want to?"

"Let me have this, and you can go first."

Teyla wasn't sure whether she liked them dividing her up like chattel, or even if she understood what they had plotted between them, but before she could work up any ire Rodney started kissing her again, playing with her breasts with his hot hands.

Then she felt a kiss on her thigh.

Rodney let go of her mouth, though his hands still played. Such big, powerful hands. When she opened her eyes she could see him watching John.

And then she was on fire. John's tongue was hot and strong, probing between her legs, licking and wiggling and pushing. It felt so good that it almost hurt. She clutched at Rodney, digging her fingers into his shoulder. He ground his erection into her hip, bent to whisper in her ear.

"Is it good? Is he eating you up, all hot and wet? I bet you taste fantastic."

His words went on, a sing-song patter of heat in her ear that she hung on to as John's tongue wound her tighter and tighter. She curled her legs around John's back as his tongue entered her over and over, trying to remember not to suffocate him when all she wanted to do was pull him closer. John moved upward, sucking on her clit, then licking it in a fast rhythm that had her panting and squirming, rocking against John's mouth.

"Come on, that's it," Rodney panted. He bent forward and sucked her nipple, flicking his firm tongue quickly, just as John was doing, pleasure shooting through her body.

Teyla went over the edge, shouting without words as she shook.

When she was back to herself enough to make sense of the world, she saw John crouched over her with a smile, his face wet and shining in the moonlight. Rodney's hand darted forward, hovered next to John's lips, then retreated without touching. John looked at Rodney, his mouth open but silent for a long moment. Then-–

"Wanna trade places?"

Rodney looked down at her, and suddenly he seemed shy, much younger than she knew him to be. "Do you want?"

And Teyla had to roll her eyes again. It was clear that she had been passive too long. She sat up, rather awkwardly because they were so close, and kissed John. She had meant it to be brief, but it turned passionate quickly. She broke away, eager and ready, and turned to Rodney.

"I very much want to," she said, and then pushed a foot against his thigh and a hand against his shoulder, knocking him flat on his back. Rodney blinked, opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly wittily sarcastic, so she silenced him by sliding onto his cock.

It was too fast, perhaps, because she hadn't done this since leaving Athos, but she loved the way he looked completely and utterly shocked, and she loved the way the tight clench of her muscles was melting away to searing pleasure. She looked to her right. John watched avidly, lazily fondling his erection. She closed her eyes for half a breath, then started to move. Rodney's hands guided her hips, kneading her muscles as she rose and fell. It was so very good. Rodney lifted his knees, and she leaned back against his thighs.

"Oh god," he said.

She couldn't have agreed more. "Yes," she hissed out, and then the light seemed to turn inside out, every bit under her skin suddenly blossoming outward as she shuddered.

Rodney pulled her off rather abruptly, pushing her to the side and into John. She was confused, a little befuddled, until she saw him stroke himself frantically, working the shaft over and over until he came over his own stomach in rhythmic spurts. Heat flooded her face even as gratitude filled her; of course it would be a terrible time to get with child.

Teyla did not get far with recriminations, however. John ran his hands over her frantically as he rubbed up against her, his cock twitching against her buttocks. She was tempted to take him inside of her as well, but now a knot of fear sat at the base of her spine. Instead, she leaned over to kiss Rodney, still gasping for air, and then turned back to John. His kisses were almost desperate, and she hurt for him. Teyla wondered how he kept so much emotion locked down all of the time. She pulled back, but his mouth followed her, and she had to push a hand between them to stop him.

"Lay down," she told him gently. "Let me return your earlier favor."

His eyes were wide, and in the dark she could not tell whether he was pleased or disappointed. But he did as she asked without question. She did not want tease him, not now, but she could not help biting and licking at his nipples as she descended. He writhed against her like a wild thing, so she took him into her mouth at last.

His cock was long but not too narrow, and it was strangely naked. It reacted the same as those she had played with in the past, however. Teyla worked her tongue up and down, not sucking much yet, simply testing his sensitivity. A hand brushed against her head, but it quickly was gone. She set to serious work, taking him in long strokes, listening to his growing moans and whispers as she increased her pace.

She brought a hand up to stroke the length she could not take in, rubbing below his balls with her other hand. John's hips worked in small, controlled thrusts. A hand returned to her head, not pushing or controlling, just holding, and John came in her mouth, hot little spurts that she had to swallow quickly to keep breathing. She kept licking until the hand pulled her away.

Teyla sat up, swallowing and trying to catch her breath. John's left hand still trailed across her arm as he blinked up at her, but his right was tightly tangled with Rodney's. They let go and reached out to her at the same time, drawing her down between them in the bedding, kissing and nuzzling before they all drifted back to sleep.

* * *

She was pulling the kettle off the fire for the tea when John awoke. She could hear him stand, followed by a soft rustle as he found his clothes. His steps were soft and cautious as he approached.

"Teyla," he murmured, and then said nothing more.

She looked up, the smile that had been there all morning widening as she saw him. It faded away, however, as she took in his crossed arms and tight shoulders. He was staring at the flames, and he did not look happy.

"John, what is it?"

"Teyla, I'm sorry."

She blinked. She turned back to measuring tea, trying to understand his manner. "Why?"

John crouched beside her. She did not look up, not wanting to see whatever was on his handsome face. She did not understand why, but she understood that something was not right, and it had to do with last night.

"Teyla," he started, then stopped and sighed. "Listen. You're a very attractive woman, and I was feeling needy, and I took advantage of our relationship. I'm sorry."

"I do not understand," she said slowly. She did not understand–but she was starting to think she had an idea, and it was making her angry. "How did you take advantage? Did you think that I was not willing?"

"No," he said quickly, "but I don't know, maybe, it's just that..."

"Just what? Are you saying that you would have been intimate with me even if I were not willing? Or that I would have allowed you to do so?" She could see John was trying to protest, but she overrode him. "I was unaware that you think so little of my ability to defend myself. Perhaps I need to disabuse you of this notion when we next train."

John slumped to a seated position on the floor, dropping his head into his hands. "No," he said, his voice muffled, "I didn't mean that at all. I just don't think..."

"Apparently not."

He looked up at her, and she was surprised by the pain in his eyes. "Listen, please? I know that I freaked out yesterday. I know you guys were worried, and I'm sorry. But just because we, uh, care about each other, that doesn't mean that we have to be, um, intimate. I'll be okay. And I don't want to mess up whatever you and Rodney have. So what I'm trying to say, I guess, is thank you, and you don't have to worry about me anymore."

John smiled a little at the end of his speech, like he was trying to punctuate his earnestness. Teyla set the kettle aside, resisting the temptation to do anything more than clench her jaw. It seemed that men were universally stupid, not just those from her own galaxy.

"I am not sure where to start," she said finally. The anger was passing, leaving only concern and the edges of confusion. "But I chose to be with you last night, and I enjoyed being with you. Did you not?"

His lips lifted a little on one side. "Oh, I had a very good time," he said, and his voice was husky. It made things heat and clench, but she ignored them.

"Do you not wish to be with me again?"

John's eyes widened, then he looked down as if he were embarrassed. "Well, um."

"He's trying to be noble and self-sacrificing. Again," Rodney said from behind them, his voice still gravelly with sleep but cutting nonetheless. "Of course he wants to be with you. He's not that stupid."

"Gee thanks, Rodney," John muttered, but he was still watching his feet.

Teyla poured the tea, not wanting it to become bitter because of the insanity of men. She handed Rodney a cup first, since he had not irritated her yet. He nodded as he took it, but his eyes were slightly wary.

"And what of yourself? Do you wish to apologize for having sex with me as well?"

Rodney sputtered his tea, and Teyla hid a smile. She knew that people sometimes wondered if she was humorless, and she enjoyed making them wonder. It made moments such as these more enjoyable.

"Take it easy, McKay," John said as he whacked Rodney between the shoulder blades. By the look Rodney shot John, it was overly enthusiastic. "I'm not real fond of CPR."

Rodney caught John's wrist as he wound up for another blow, stilling the motion. "Yes, perhaps that's because you're doing it wrong." He let go of John's arm and sighed. "No, Teyla. That wouldn't be on top of my list of things to do today." He glanced up over the brim of his cup, eyebrows drawn together. "Uh, I don't need to, do I?"

She smiled. "No, certainly not." Teyla lifted her own mug to her lips, hiding the fact that her smile was growing into a smirk to rival either of their own devilish grins. "Though I am beginning to think that perhaps I was mistaken. It seems I did not understand the customs of your society. I may have to reconsider any future liaisons."

They both blinked at her in a most satisfying way. Then Rodney slapped John on the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Idiot! Have you ever heard the expression 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth'?"

"Gift horse?" Teyla asked archly, pleased when Rodney appeared taken aback.

John chuckled. "Have you ever heard the expression about sticking your foot in your mouth, Rodney?"

Teyla started laughing as Rodney groped for words. His eyes narrowed, but he did not seem terribly upset.

"Very funny," he said.

Their laughter died away slowly, leaving an awkward silence. John smiled at her, warm and much less tentative than earlier. She handed him his tea, and John brushed his long fingers over hers before he took it.

Rodney cleared his throat. "So, no apologies, then?"

"No apologies," she said firmly, tipping her head so she could meet John's eyes. He nodded, and they turned to a quiet breakfast. Quiet except for Rodney's constant chatter about his plans for the day, of course.

They parted without speaking again of the previous night, though she felt at ease with the situation. There were chores to be seen to, and though many would take her into the forest, she chose those that let her stay close to the men. Even if that involved mending with one of the tiny Earth needles. So Teyla sat in the sun, attempting to fix the tear in the sleeve of her jacket.

Rodney was doing something with a pile of stones and his ever-present scanner. She had stopped questioning his plans some time ago, though she still enjoyed watching him explain his projects. When he was truly caught up in the moment, his face would become ecstatic and his hands would fly through complex configurations, and she could almost understand the things he described to her. Of course, if things were going poorly or he was upset, he would snap like a wounded animal.

He had piled his stones quite close to where John was running through the stretches and forms she had taught him. She thought perhaps that Rodney's rocks were not as interesting as he had planned; she frequently spotted him staring at John.

Then again, maybe they were that fascinating, for just as often she saw John staring at Rodney. Whenever the exercise took him toward the hut, Rodney would look down, and John would stare. When John faced away, Rodney would look up again. It happened often enough to become almost rhythmic, and she became so entranced that she jabbed her finger.

"Damn," she cursed quietly, and stuck the bloody tip in her mouth.

When she looked up again, both John and Rodney were staring at her. She arched her eyebrow, and they both looked away. Teyla was not exactly sure what to make of their antics, but mostly she was amused. The lingering awkwardness of the morning had drained away, but she felt some other emotion was waiting to make itself known.

John finished his stretches and took a seat next to Rodney. She expected them to fall to teasing as they usually did, but instead she caught the sound of a courteous question. Rodney nodded, then began demonstrating his work by moving the stones around. She still had no clue as to what he was attempting, but then she rarely did. She rather liked that about Rodney. Teyla was confident in her own knowledge and abilities, but Rodney amazed her every day.

She reached the end of the rip, tied off the thread, and snipped the tail with the tiny scissors. As she stowed the needle in the kit, she thought about what a precious commodity it was. They had so few things to last them a lifetime, if it came to that. Teyla wondered how long their clothing would last, and how cold the winters would be. Panic started to bubble up at the thought, but she pushed it away. She had not given up on Aiden yet, no matter how discouraging the situation seemed. And even if they remained here much longer than they hoped, each challenge would be met as it came. John and Rodney were bright, resourceful, and brave, and together they would all be well.

Teyla tucked the kit and her jacket back into her pack. John was watching Rodney lay out the rocks in a complicated pattern on the ground. He looked more at peace than she had seen him since the last time he told stories to the Athosian children. It was if a festering wound had been lanced; she only wished that Aiden had not been the catalyst.

She sighed. So many thoughts. Teyla carried her pack back into the house, then picked up her walking stick. She needed time alone, and the snares needed to be checked.

"I am going for a walk," she announced. John and Rodney both looked up as if they had been unaware of her presence.

"Where are you going?" John asked. He always asked, always tried to look out for everyone.

"To the south forest, to check the traps we set."

"Do you want us to come with you?" John offered.

An annoyed look crossed Rodney's face before it changed to honest concern. "Yes, was there something I was supposed to do? I had a thought about improving the efficiency of the snares. If we–"

Teyla waved her hand. "Do not worry. I only wish to take a walk." She glanced down at his project. He held one of the smoother rocks in one palm, rubbing back and forth with his thumb. "I will leave you to fondling your stones," she teased.

Rodney looked startled before he chuckled. John beamed.

"Well, I always knew that McKay was just focused on getting his rocks off."

She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she assumed it was vulgar from the way Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, very mature. I'm sure you'll make some quip about the size of your boulders next."

John was still grinning. "Nah, you did it for me. Didn't know you thought so highly of me, Rodney."

Teyla stepped away without trying to say anything more. John waved, but Rodney was engaged in a long diatribe and didn't seem to notice her departure.

It was a beautiful day, sunny with very few clouds in the sky, warm but not hot. She could love the land here, if only she knew that her people back on Atlantis were well. Perhaps, if they ever made it back to the city of the Ancestors, they could return to this planet on occasion. It was unsuitable for an alpha site since the gate was in orbit, but otherwise it would be perfect.

The first snare was empty. She checked to make sure it was set properly, then wandered in the direction of the second. She stopped before she got there. There was a place near the ravine where two small trees grew close together, their canopies twining together as they reached for the light.

Teyla breathed deeply, the scent of damp earth and decaying wood strong in her nose as she watched the breeze blow through the leafy canopy. She rolled her head from side to side, lifting each arm to reach up and backwards, pulling just enough to lengthen out the knots of worry. So much had happened in so little time. She had lived with fear her entire life. Fear was a known thing. The Wraith attacked; the only question was when and who would be taken. She hated that certainty with every fiber of her being, but she knew how to face it, how to live her life.

She sighed out a breath and settled down on a worn boulder at the edge of the stream. It was the perfect spot to sit and think, and watch the stream trickle over the mossy rocks below. The Earthers had thrown her life into such turmoil. For a year, every single day had brought something new. Some days it would be little things, like the strange sweet they called chewing gum. Other days it was something so large she could hardly encompass it with her mind. Teyla shivered as she remembered Dr. Beckett and Dr. Weir facing her, worry in their eyes as they tried to figure out how to tell her the truth of her heritage.

She opened her eyes and stared hard at the world surrounding her. This was reality, not her nightmare fears of the Wraith. She rubbed her hand against the pocked surface of the boulder, ran her fingers over the scaly surface of the blue lichen patches. Small insects crawled just beyond her reach. They scurried about their business unaware of her presence. Was that how they appeared to the Ancestors? Halling was firm in his belief that the Ancestors would return one day, bringing great joy, but Teyla had seen too much. Rodney certainly thought the idea was ridiculous, and she suspected that John felt that way as well. Wherever the Ancestors were now, they followed their own path.

Except Chaya Sar, of course.

A sharp spike of anger shot through her, heat burning up through her chest and into her throat. The emotion was so sudden, it took her a moment to recognize it–she was jealous.

Teyla laughed, and the feeling faded away, leaving only a kind of wonderment. Jealousy was a fruitless emotion, a lesson she had learned in her youth. She had done her best to cull it from herself and to address it in her people so it could not fester. Yet here she was, jealous of a higher being who had been drawn to John in the past. Teyla hadn't even been jealous at the time, merely amused. Rodney was the one who had acted like a jealous lover.

She raised her eyebrows at the thought. But they had not acted like lovers last night. Yet there was something... She shook her head, deciding it was too complicated for her to decipher at the moment. There was still the question of her own jealousy.

John Sheppard was guilty of turning her world upside down more than any of the other Earthers. Yet she was so very fond of him despite that. She had been attracted to him from the very beginning, yet she had assumed they would remain friends only. She had let the attraction be subsumed by necessity and practicality. Until last night.

Heat rose through her again, and it was not jealousy this time. Yesterday, she had been so worried about John, as had Rodney. She hadn't expected it to lead to sex, however. She wondered if Rodney had planned it, or if it had been a spontaneous decision. She wondered how he had guessed that she would be open to the idea. It was not an unheard of thing among her people, for three lovers to join together, but it was not common either. Teyla had gathered that such things were not spoken of among the Earthers, even if they did occur. They had such odd attitudes toward sex and love. It made her angry sometimes, as many of their customs did, but she always reminded herself that it was not her place to judge.

Rodney's eyes had been so open as he took that first step, so trusting. Sometimes she thought that he was braver than she and John put together. His hands had been gentle and strong at the same time. She brushed her hand lightly over the bare skin of her arm, her hair rising at the simple touch. John had needed her so much, and Rodney had as well. Almost as much as she had needed them, and that scared her a little.

Her throat felt full, her eyes tight at the thought. So much was uncertain. She missed Aiden terribly, but she wanted to go home–to Atlantis–as well. Death was a part of her life. The thing she feared was the idea that if they stayed here, if they were stranded here forever, one of them would die alone.

Teyla gasped, covering her mouth to cover the sound. She would have to be very, very careful. The consequences were too horrible to consider. She closed her eyes, pushing such dreadful ideas away. The fears were real, and she acknowledged them, but it would accomplish nothing to dwell upon them. Instead, she thought of what she wished to be, but could not.

Her hands tingled with the memory of John's cock, so silky and smooth as she stroked and licked him. She had not even held Rodney's–she had been in such a hurry to feel him within her. Her muscles fluttered a little with the thought, hungry still to have one of them. Teyla brushed a hand over her breast, just to feel something. She wanted to know how John felt, how he moved. She wanted to take them one after the other, knowing that their seed mingled together inside of her. She wanted to feel their fluid all over her body, dripping down her thighs as proof of their passion.

Teyla shook herself. It could not be, and this was nothing but maudlin indulgence. Yes, she wanted many things. The only thing to do was to live.

She stood decisively, grabbing her walking stick from where it leaned against a forked branch. The other snares should be checked. Perhaps she would be able to teach Rodney to skin today.

* * *

John dawdled over his shoes. Dawdled. Tugged at the laces like they were a foreign concept, pondered the dirt on his toes liked he'd never seen it before. Without lifting his head, he peeked at Rodney. John was both relieved and annoyed to see him fussing unproductively with the corner of the mattress.

They were wusses, both of them. John sighed, untied the knots he'd managed to create, and pushed off his shoes. He straightened decisively, but froze when he saw Teyla watching them, eyebrow arched knowingly.

Busted.

"I do not wish to risk conceiving," she said suddenly, and John's gut dropped through the floor. He hadn't even thought about that last night, which was stupid, and not like himself at all. "And I no longer have the medicines to prevent it. It is one thing to live the rest of my life on this planet, but I could not wish that fate on a child for the cost of any returned regrets."

That brought his gut bounding back up to his chest, twisting and knotted. "I'm sorry," he said again, though he knew the words didn't make any difference. He glanced at Rodney, who only looked sad. He remembered Rodney pushing Teyla away last night and then jerking himself off, his hand working fast and sure until he came all over his stomach. John shook his head. Rodney smiled sadly, his face thoughtful.

Teyla stepped forward, grasping his jaw and tugging his face down towards her own. "Did we not agree that apologies were unnecessary? No regrets, only being. I said that I cannot risk conception, but there are other things we can do."

She pulled him forward, and he took the hint and kissed her. Her lips were lush under his own, and she was warm in his arms. Teyla seemed totally into the kiss, welcoming and wanting, and his anxiety couldn't stand against that. Not when he had wanted this for so long and tried to ignore it, not when she was sucking on his lower lip and pressing her breasts into his chest.

Rodney cleared his throat.

John kissed Teyla softly, then shared a knowing smile with her. "Problem, McKay?"

"What? No, no problem, Colonel. I'm just dying of blue balls over here. Don't mind me."

John pulled back a little, enough to look past Teyla. Rodney was trying to glare, but his eyes kept traveling over their bodies.

"You know, I really don't want to hear that in this situation," John prodded. Teyla rubbed against him, distracting him from their game for a moment.

"What? You don't want to hear about my blue balls? Believe me, I'm not all that fond of having them."

John laughed. Teyla leaned up and nipped at his ear, which put her ass perfectly in position to grab. She had an incredible ass. He squeezed and then let go, then turned his attention back to Rodney.

"No, Rodney, I wasn't talking about your balls, though you certainly seem obsessed with them. Don't call me 'Colonel'. I know you know my name."

Teyla writhed again. He was pretty sure she was playing it up for Rodney's benefit, but John wasn't complaining. He pinched her ass, and she jumped.

"What are you doing, John?" Rodney said, drawing out his name sarcastically. "You have a beautiful woman all over you, but you don't seem to know how to handle her."

Teyla muffled a giggle against his neck. John wasn't sure he'd ever heard her giggle, but he liked it a lot. Then she ran her teeth across his skin, and he moaned. He liked that even more.

He caught Rodney's eye. "Maybe you're right," John agreed easily, though his hands were busy proving Rodney wrong. "Why don't you come over here and show me?"

Rodney finally stepped forward, pressing against Teyla. John brushed against Rodney's muscled chest as he ran his hands across Teyla's back. He squeezed Rodney's shoulder, and got a sly smile before Rodney set his face into a stern expression.

"I do know almost everything about everything," he bragged.

"Is that so? So you don't think this is a good technique?" John kissed Teyla, long and slow and deep. He almost forgot the game, almost forgot that he wasn't supposed to draw her down to the ground and sink into her. But Rodney was waiting, and he couldn't forget Rodney. He broke away, smugly happy when Teyla swayed a little in his arms.

"It will do, I suppose," Rodney said airily. He put his hands on Teyla's shoulders, and John got the picture quickly enough to help turn her between them. She was being extremely pliant and quiet at the moment, but John had no doubt that she was simply playing along, biding her time until she decided to take charge again.

"Watch a master at work," Rodney said, and then he kissed Teyla. He cradled the back of her head with a hand that pressed against John's chest. John could feel Rodney's fingers weave into Teyla's hair, could feel him control her head as he kissed her. Teyla moaned, so he must have been doing something right.

They were all breathing heavily when Teyla and Rodney parted with quick little nips.

"Yeah, okay," John said. "Not too bad. So what's next, Einstein?"

Rodney gave them both a considering look. Teyla squirmed, pressing into his hard-on, probably into Rodney's as well from the way consideration changed into soft-focus blinking.

"Whatever you choose, just do it," she commanded, and John couldn't agree more.

"Mmm," Rodney said, trailing his fingers down her cheek. He leaned in, and John could hear his whisper, "You should be naked."

"We should all be naked," Teyla said.

"Sounds like a plan," John said, stepping away just enough to shuck his clothes. Thank god he'd finally gotten his shoes off earlier, because he really thought that much coordination would have been beyond him at the moment. Teyla slipped out from between them. John couldn't look away from her as she shimmied out of her tight top, then stripped off her pants quickly. She sank down onto the mattress, and Rodney laid down beside her, already naked. John hurried to join them.

Teyla laid back, and John propped himself up on an elbow to watch her and Rodney both. Rodney mirrored him.

"What's next, teach?" John asked.

Rodney almost lost it, the corners of his mouth twitching wildly before he drew his eyebrows down in mock seriousness. "Pay attention," he said. "I hate to lecture over the same material twice."

"Oh, I'm a quick study," John said, following the path of Rodney's fingers across Teyla's throat with his own. Teyla arched against their hands, her eyes drifting shut with the gentle touches. John scooted closer to her, hissing a little as his dick brushed against the heat of her thigh.

"Good, good," Rodney said, though he sounded distracted. "Let's start simple, shall we?"

John watched him carefully. Rodney was smiling now as he leaned over Teyla. She had opened her eyes and was smiling back at Rodney. John realized it was incredibly hot to watch them, to see the intensity of what they were feeling as Rodney cupped Teyla's cheek and kissed her again. Better than the best porn, and he was right here, a part of it. John leaned in close, drawn in by their passion, and when Rodney pulled back John immediately took his place. He still couldn't believe he was kissing Teyla, couldn't believe that she was pushing up into him, her tongue stroking against his. He could feel Rodney beside them, waiting.

"Very good," Rodney said as they parted. "Does he pass, Teyla?"

She glanced between them. "I am undecided," she said.

"Hey!"

Teyla smirked at him. "I may need a further demonstration."

He was bending forward to do just that when Rodney caught him by the shoulder. "Time for a more advanced maneuver," he said, and bent forward to suckle Teyla's nipple.

John could handle that. He pulled her other nipple into his mouth, playing with the soft flesh until it hardened. He worked the rest of her full breast with his hand, mounding it up so he could tug her nipple with his teeth. Teyla was panting, making little gasps and whimpers. John let go so he could just flick with his tongue, feeling pretty damn smug.

That's when she got her hand on his cock. He lifted his head with a gasp. Across from him Rodney panted, obviously a happy victim of the same. Teyla had a wicked grin on her face as she stroked them, her grip firm but slow.

"Rodney," he growled, "what's next?"

"Here." Rodney grabbed his hand, just like he had last night when John couldn't help reaching for Teyla's head, lacing their fingers together in a way that felt too right. John concentrated on the feel of Teyla's hot smooth skin as Rodney slid their fingers down her body, the crinkle of her pubic hair as Rodney guided them through it. Rodney let go once John's fingers found her clit, and then Rodney moved lower. Teyla grunted as Rodney entered her, the palm of his hand pressing against John's own.

John started circling, rubbing gently at first and then with a little more pressure as Teyla's moans changed to breathy pleas. He glanced over at Rodney and found himself being watched. He backed off then, letting Rodney's pumping fingers take Teyla over the edge. She shook beneath them as she cried out. When she started to calm down, John began rubbing again, faster and faster until she was crying and thrashing. Then Rodney took over again. She was nearly sobbing by the time she grabbed for their wrists. John pulled his hand free, bending forward to kiss her gently as she relaxed back against the bedding.

When he looked up, Rodney was licking his fingers like they were covered in chocolate. John swallowed heavily, reminding himself that licking another guy's fingers was not something guys did. Instead, he rolled to his back and closed his eyes, stroking his own wet fingers over his cock. He wanted to be in Teyla so badly, wanted to feel her around him as her eyelids fluttered and she gasped for air, as she arched against him and ran her hands across his skin. He wanted what Rodney'd had last night, even if it hadn't been very long.

He groaned and opened his eyes as another hand cupped his balls. Teyla smiled at him before she bent down and bit his neck. Her breasts rubbed against his arm and chest. John sped up his hand–he was so close. Teyla moved lower, rubbing against the spot just below his balls, and that was it.

As he wound down, breathless and still throbbing a little, he opened his eyes to see Teyla and Rodney watching him. Rodney was whispering into her ear, something John couldn't hear. It struck John how weird this whole thing was. Last night he'd been too overwhelmed to think about much of anything except _oh my god, Teyla_ and _Rodney's sharing, thank god_. But guys didn't watch other guys jerk off any more than they licked each other's fingers, and it was weird that he wasn't weird about it. John just couldn't get all that worked up about it, though, not while he was blissed out with a beautiful woman next to him. Even if she was dragging her hand through the spunk on his stomach and using it to lube up Rodney's cock.

Hell with it, it was just Rodney.

John sat up as Rodney and Teyla twisted so that he was lying down while she worked him. John swallowed as he watched. It was just like porn only better, he told himself. He'd get a vicarious thrill off of watching Teyla give anybody a handjob. It didn't matter that it was Rodney at all. Didn't matter that John was watching Rodney's mouth as he gasped for breath, didn't matter that John watched Rodney's cock sliding through Teyla's dark hand. It was all about Teyla and hand jobs.

Rodney whimpered, a tiny little grunt actually, and then he shot all over Teyla's hand and himself. John leaned forward a bit to see better, and okay, maybe things were a little weird after all. He groped around beside the bed until he found his shirt, wiping himself off and then holding it out to Rodney. Teyla took it and cleaned up the mess. He'd have to do laundry tomorrow; Rodney'd used John's other shirt last night.

John flopped back on the mattress, covering his eyes. Teyla snuggled in beside him, and he could feel the thump through the mattress as Rodney settled in as well.

"Shower's first thing on the to-do list," Rodney mumbled, still slightly out of breath. John grunted in acknowledgment.

He was still thinking about a nice long, hot shower as he slid into sleep. He woke after a remarkably restful night, with only vague recollections of dreams. Teyla was already gone, off doing whatever she did now that they were rationing their morning tea. John sighed and rolled over, and found Rodney blinking blearily at him.

"You're up early," he said quietly.

Rodney grunted, yawned, and waved one hand crazily in the air as he rubbed the other across his face. "Fell asleep early," he said. "No reason to stay up half the night now."

That hit John in the gut, even though he knew Rodney hadn't meant it as an accusation. John couldn't imagine how badly it was going to suck for Rodney, with no outlet for that amazing, incredible mind. No new scientific quests, no universe-saving discoveries. Maybe he'd wind up whiling away his time coming up with gadgets a la the Swiss Family Robinson.

"What's up with you?" Rodney asked sleepily. "You're not acting like a guy who's gotten off two nights in a row."

John grimaced. He didn't really want to get into the whole 'not your fault' debate again. "Yeah, about that," he said instead. "You really okay with this?"

"About having sex with Teyla? Are you kidding?"

John rolled his eyes. Of course Rodney would make this difficult. "No, I mean it's kind of weird, isn't it? With you and me, and you and me and Teyla."

Rodney propped himself up on his shoulder. "Do you have a problem with it?"

John shook his head. "No, I just thought you might."

Rodney grinned a little, his lips tilting sideways. "I started it, remember?"

"Right." John realized he hadn't actually known that. He just remembered opening his eyes with tension already running through his body, and seeing Rodney and Teyla kissing. He'd still been trying to work out whether to take off when Teyla had kissed him–he had assumed she was the initiator.

Rodney rolled onto his back, tucking his hands under his head. "I'd give a lot for a lifetime supply of condoms, though."

John snorted. He definitely agreed with that. "Hey, at least you got to," and he paused, trying to come up with the best way to say it, "you know."

Rodney rolled toward him again, his eyebrows trying to get up to his hairline. "Christ, are you twelve? I think the word you're looking for is fuck. Or possibly screw, if fuck is too strong for your repressed American sensibilities."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "Hey, it's Teyla, okay? I was trying to be respectful."

"Please. Teyla's hardly a blushing Victorian bride." Rodney smirked, and John just knew he was thinking about some of the ways Teyla had proved his point. John smiled as well; he was hard just thinking about how she could take charge in bed.

Rodney's smile fell away, clearly caught up in some thought. "They used to make condoms out of animal intestine. Maybe we could figure out something from the squirbits..."

John wrinkled his nose. "I'm not sticking dead animal bits on my dick, Rodney."

"Well, when you put it that way, it is rather disgusting," Rodney agreed. "But they'd be prepared, of course. It wouldn't be fresh. And really, for Teyla?"

John thought about it. His dick didn't mind the idea at all, not if it meant having Teyla clenching around him, hot and wet and incredible. Unfortunately, his brain got back into the picture. "That's not something we can play around with, though. Ninety percent effective isn't nearly good enough."

Rodney sighed. "Good point." He sounded disappointed, but whether it was because of the Teyla factor or the failed-idea factor, John wasn't sure.

He reached out and poked Rodney in the ribs. "Hey. Wouldn't squirbit be too small anyway?"

Rodney batted at his hand and rolled back onto his side. John swallowed as his hand trailed through Rodney's chest hair and over a hard nipple before he pulled it away. That was definitely inappropriate touching.

"Intestine stretches," Rodney said, sounding aggrieved at John's stupidity and not at all like he'd noticed the touching.

John looked back up at his face. Rodney had incredibly blue eyes, kind of like the sky in Antarctica. "So, you really don't mind me being there?" he asked softly.

Rodney shook his head, his eyes finally losing that far away fuzziness as he focused on John. The silence felt heavy as he waited for Rodney to say something else, and his mouth was dry.

"No," Rodney said. His lips twitched a little. "It's not like you're a threat to my ego."

John tried to smile, but he realized he had been waiting for a different response. He searched for something to say or do. Tickling Rodney was appealing, but he should keep his hands away from all that skin. He should go for a nice manly punch to the arm, but that didn't feel right either.

"Funny," he said finally, and before Rodney could respond John rolled off the mattress and stood up. "I've gotta piss," he said, and practically sprinted outside.

* * *

Teyla paused as she reentered the clearing, watching John emerge from their cabin. He was wearing just his pants and shoes, clutching a bundle of clothing to his bare chest. She admired him as he approached; the full muscles of his upper chest and shoulders, the lean line of his body, the way the dark hair that covered his skin made her want to feel the difference in the textures. He was very pale–she hoped he did not stay uncovered in the sun overly long.

John smiled at her distractedly. "I'm off to do laundry. I grabbed your spare top."

She smiled back. Until now they had each cared for their own clothing, but she was not going to stop his generosity. "Thank you."

He nodded and started away, only to stop and turn back to her. "Good morning," he said, and then leaned in and kissed her. It was slightly awkward since the bundle of clothes pressed between them, and she was taken off-guard by the affection shared in the open, despite the fact that they were alone. Nevertheless, she appreciated the gesture. When he pulled back, he smiled much more naturally, more focused on her.

"Good morning," she said. "Is this an Earth custom?"

"Yes. Maybe." His eyebrows fluttered in thought. "Anyway, it is for me."

Teyla brushed his cheek. "I think I like this custom."

John grinned. "Remind me to tell you about the custom of good-morning sex tomorrow."

She arched an eyebrow, knowing he was teasing her. When he turned away chuckling she swatted his behind, just hard enough for him to feel it. He jumped a little but didn't stop laughing.

Rodney was leaning against the doorframe when she turned back, watching John fade into the distance.

"Good morning," she told him.

He looked at her, his eyes far away for an instant before they refocused on her. "Good morning. I heard there was some educating about customs?"

She stepped forward and kissed him, intending it to be the same brief but sweet exchange she had shared with John. Instead, Rodney wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her snugly to him, taking his time with the kiss.

"Mmm, yes, very nice," he said as he drew back. "Good custom."

Her breasts felt full and heavy where they pressed against his chest, and she could feel his erection against her thigh. Instead of grinding into it as she wished, she pushed away from him gently. "Yes, but it is not one conducive to the day's work, I fear."

Rodney sighed. "There is that. Though to tell the truth I'm not sure where to start working. I mean, I have a ton of fascinating and highly theoretical avenues to explore, but making sure we don't starve to death should probably take precedence."

Teyla nodded. "We must consider what we need most urgently, and what is necessary for the long term. I am also most concerned about our supply of food at the moment."

His brow wrinkled. "Are we going to starve? I was joking, but it's a real possibility, isn't it? Especially with winter coming on and us having nothing stored away, and then there's the issue of protein starvation, not to mention overhunting the population..."

Teyla grabbed his hand. "I will not let us starve," she said sharply. "But it will take time and much work to find enough. Winter is still many months away, as you have already determined for us."

"Right," Rodney said more calmly. "Okay. So what's our first step then? We can't start planting crops because hello, no seed."

She drew him by the hand into following her. "I have an idea."

A large patch of ground behind the hut was covered in vegetation different than the tall grass that was abundant elsewhere. "I believe this was a garden at one time," she told him. "It will not be enough to sustain us at first, but with careful tending we may increase its yield in the future."

"How do we know what's edible, though? I mean, poisonous weeds might have snuck in and taken over," Rodney pointed out.

She nodded, meeting his eyes so he knew that she took his concerns seriously. "We must test each individually. The testing is an extensive process. John and I should begin at once. I have also spotted some fruit-bearing bushes in the forests we can test as well."

Rodney frowned. "Wait. You and John? What about me?"

"Do you not have dangerous reactions to certain foods?"

"Yes, to citrus fruits. Don't go getting the impression that I'm interested in endangering my life here, because hello, not my thing, but I'll still be at risk even after you and John test something. I might as well be in on the process from the start."

Teyla weighed his words. Dr. Beckett had instructed her on emergency procedures shortly after she joined John's team, and one of those procedures was how to use an epi-pen in case Rodney had a reaction. They only had a few of those precious pens among their supplies. Teyla did not want to think about what might happen if they ran out.

"You must do it exactly as I instruct you," she decided. "And we will all be together when we start each test."

Rodney held up his hands. "Absolutely."

She studied the plants again, but she had already chosen those she wanted to test first. Once John returned they would begin. The process of testing edibility could be dangerous for anyone. She was nervous, but they had no choice. It made her nauseated to think of Rodney suffocating, or John retching until he died of dehydration.

"Wait," Rodney said. "This is going to be disgusting, isn't it? I'm going to have to taste all kinds of gross things, aren't I?"

Teyla laughed, jarred out of her worry.

"Great," Rodney muttered, and he continued muttering as they walked back to the hut. They sat down in front. "So what about other game?"

Teyla stretched her arms over her head, then leaned back on her hands. She tilted her head and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze. "I have seen some nesting birds in the field areas. It may be possible to domesticate them."

Rodney grunted. "Eggs for breakfast, there's a thought. We'll need to build an enclosure, which means finding materials."

They continued discussing their plans, coming up with both possibilities and problems as they shared the morning together. Rodney was constantly questioning, coming up with more ideas as he pushed her for more information. She realized how much trust he put in her knowledge, how much trust he placed in her to keep him safe. She flushed from the thought as she watched him, her eyes drawn to his rapidly moving hands, to his thoughtful eyes, to his fascinating mouth.

"If you keep looking at me like that we really won't get anything done today."

Teyla looked up from his smiling mouth. She had completely lost track of their conversation, and she flushed again. "I am sorry," she said quickly.

Rodney snorted. "Please, don't apologize. I'm completely on board with a sexy woman making eyes at me. But I thought you wanted to get work done?"

Teyla nodded, then looked away from him completely. She was surprised at herself; usually she was much better at compartmentalizing her feelings. She saw John enter the clearing, which did nothing to lessen her arousal. He was still shirtless, the laundered clothing draped across his shoulders.

He smiled as he got closer. "Hey there."

She smiled back, then watched him walk to the line they had strung between the shack and the latrine. He had his back to them as he arranged the clothing over it. The muscles in his back bulged and slackened as he worked, his skin glistening from the water still clinging to him.

Teyla shook her head and turned toward Rodney, certain he was impatient to resume their conversation. He was watching John just as intently as she had been, however. She looked back at John just as he began striding toward them with that easy lope she couldn't help but admire.

John gave them a funny look, his eyebrows wiggling, but he didn't say anything until after he sat down.

"So I was thinking," he started, glancing at Rodney before looking back at her, "about our course of action."

She nodded as Rodney shook his finger in the air, the way he did when he was excited about an idea.

"Yes, yes," he said. "We've been talking about that. We've been waiting for you to get back so we can get started."

"Really," John drawled, clearly amused. "Get started with what?"

"We need to begin testing the vegetation for edibility. I have chosen a plant for each of us," Teyla told him.

John looked at Rodney. "Each of us?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm being extraordinarily brave and selfless. Don't worry, I'll complain with my dying breath if it goes wrong."

"Don't joke about that!" John barked.

Rodney paled, his mouth pulling down tightly. Teyla crossed her arms over her chest, uncomfortable as she questioned her earlier decision yet again.

John looked off into the distance. "It's not funny," he said softly. "Besides, I think Teyla and I can handle the job better if we're not listening to you bitch about how everything tastes." He smiled as if he were now joking, but his eyes were tight.

"I'll have to take the risk eventually, John," Rodney said, much more serious now than he had been earlier. "And if we go slow, it should be fine."

"I believe it will be safe enough," Teyla added. "We do not have so much food that we can take overlong to find more."

John looked at the ground, then back up at her. She felt that he was weighing her, weighing how confident she was in her knowledge and how concerned she was for Rodney. He finally nodded.

"You know, I am an adult," Rodney said. "I'm touched by your concern, truly, but I'm capable of making my own decisions."

John looked over at Rodney. "Yes, and I'm still in–" He stopped abruptly, his mouth snapping shut. He scrambled to his feet and paced a few steps away, turning away from them. Still in charge, she thought he had been going to say. He still thought of himself as their leader, responsible for their safety.

When he turned back his face was composed. "You're right, Rodney. Just be careful, please? Tell us if you have any problems–immediately."

Rodney nodded. "The same goes for you, Colonel."

John shook his head even as he smiled, but he did not comment. Teyla felt as if she had something lodged in her throat.

"So anyway, that wasn't what I was thinking about, though I'm glad you guys were," John said. "But there are other structures, ruins, near the mountain range, right? I was thinking we should check those out, see if they have any materials we can use. Hell, maybe there's Ancient tech buried somewhere."

Rodney nodded enthusiastically even as she shook her head.

"Yes, that's a good idea, why didn't I think of that?" Rodney said. "Although I doubt there's any viable technology. But even some refined metal or building materials would be useful."

"Exactly," John said with a grin.

"I do not think we can take such a risk at this time," she broke in. "It will take us much time to gather enough food for a journey, and we must also prepare for the cold months. Perhaps we will be prepared enough next spring."

Their faces fell, both John and Rodney looking like she had taken a toy away. She almost wished she had not said anything.

John sighed. "Well, it's probably better to wait a while anyway. Just in case I haven't scared Ford off permanently. Now, how do we do this food thing?"

* * *

Rodney rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, even though John couldn't see it. Hell, John should know he was doing it, just like he knew John was staring a hole into his back. "I'm fine," he said, again, and he heard John move off. John had been hovering all day, even though they weren't even taste-testing yet, even though it was John who'd had a skin reaction to his plant, and he was driving Rodney nuts. Usually he was all for attention given to his own peril and danger, but not when it interfered with his work. Which, admittedly, shouldn't require all that much concentration since it was literally basket-weaving.

 _Shouldn't_ being the operative word. He frowned in irritation as the reeds slipped out of place once again. Oh, the jokes there would be if his classmates could see him now.

"Are you sure this is the best way to expend our energy right now? We do have containers, ones that don't have holes as part of their construction," he said to Teyla, who of course had managed to weave something that looked like it might turn out to be a usable container once she was finished.

Teyla raised her eyebrows. "You were the one who wanted to learn a new skill while we talked."

He sighed and went back to trying to get the reeds to cooperate as he added "frightened minions" to the list of things he would miss. Neither Teyla nor John were easily intimidated by his verbal agility. They were more likely to turn his words back on him, which was fun when he was in a good mood but irritating when he needed to let off a little steam.

"Though I suppose we are losing the light," she said a few minutes later. "Perhaps we should make preparations for sleep."

Rodney looked up, surprised. He still had a good patch of sunlight, though the shadows were growing. Plus, he had just completed the first section and was ready to move on while he had a rhythm.

"Not a bad idea," John agreed, tucking his knife back into its sheath.

Rodney blinked, then noticed that Teyla was smiling at him, looking up from under her eyelashes. Teyla was actually being _coy_. "Oh right," he said as the lightbulb went on. "Good idea."

They worked quickly to store things out of the way, already efficient at the mundane tasks after the short time they'd been at them. Rodney supposed it wasn't really too much of an excuse to call it a night; they had a full day planned out tomorrow, and Teyla always rose with the dawn.

"I'll be in in a minute," John said. He sounded a little cagey, like he was up to something, but Rodney brushed it off. At least he wasn't hovering anymore.

Teyla began stripping as soon as she was inside. Rodney watched, just as amazed as he always was by her beauty, by her willingness to share herself with them. Her breasts were high and round with dark nipples that pointed slightly upwards, and they were jiggling slightly as she pulled her pants off. Her stomach was muscled but with a bit of touchable roundness, and her ass...her ass was perfect. He loved the way her small, narrow back flowed into the roundness, a sudden flare of squeezable muscle.

It occurred to him that he probably wanted to be naked, too. He pulled off his shoes and clothes, tossing them carelessly to the side, and joined her on the bed.

"I have been waiting all day for this," she said right before she kissed him.

They kissed lazily, softly, exploring with soft little nips and tugs, not in a hurry as they had been the two nights before. He ran his hand over her silky skin, and when he reached her ass he grabbed on and pulled her close. She hummed in his mouth and wiggled against him so that they were completely pressed together. For all that she was an impressive fighter, she was still a tiny woman.

"I see you got started without me," John said, sounding more interested than annoyed.

Teyla pulled away and rolled onto her back. John already had his shoes off and was making quick work of the rest of his clothes. Teyla watched avidly. This was the part Rodney was uncertain of; they weren't two buddies sharing a locker room now. John hadn't sounded like he had any hang-ups when they talked this morning, but Rodney didn't think that meant what he hoped it meant. But when John dropped his pants, Rodney didn't look away.

John crouched down and crawled up the end of the bed, bracing himself on his arms above Teyla. His thigh pressed into Rodney's, nearly brushing his cock, and Rodney had to stop himself from thrusting against him.

"Hello there," John said, smiling down at Teyla. "I don't know if I've ever been in this position before."

She smiled back at him, and Rodney nearly laughed at her smugness. "I should not let you become used to it, then," and then she did something that had John suddenly crashing downwards, landing half on her and half on Rodney.

"Hey!" Rodney protested. "Watch the dangly bits, thank you very much." John hadn't actually hurt him, but Rodney wasn't sure if he was on board with the idea of roughhousing in bed. It could get dangerous.

"Come on, Rodney. The two of us should be able to at least match her." John lifted himself up, his hard cock brushing against Rodney's thigh as he did so, and Rodney thought maybe he could be convinced to change his mind.

"I had forgotten how foolish you can be at times," Teyla said, and that was a dare if he'd ever heard one.

Rodney grabbed for her wrist as John tried to straddle her again. He couldn't keep a hold of her small bones, though, as she twisted in his grip and slipped out like a wet bar of soap. Then John went flying, tumbling over her head and landing on the floor with a loud thump. Rodney winced, knowing exactly what that felt like after his last lesson. He hoped John hadn't injured anything important. He eyed Teyla. She was still grinning smugly, her eyes on John as he crawled back onto the mattress. Maybe the problem was that John just didn't weigh enough. While her attention was diverted, Rodney clamped his thighs around her waist, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and chest.

"Well, help me," he snapped at John as she began squirming. He had to admit his dick was quite happy with the situation. Lots of hot, slightly sweaty skin and the good kind of adrenaline. She managed to get her feet under her and press upwards, knocking Rodney onto his back, but then John grabbed her ankles and lifted.

"Now that is a sight," John said happily. Rodney could imagine.

"I am glad you are enjoying yourself," she said. Then he had no idea what happened. One moment he had her tight, the next she was flipping herself in some weird contortion. He had to let go or risk getting his shoulder dislocated and his dick crushed.

John landed on top of him.

John's eyes were wide, surprised, and Rodney couldn't seem to get his breath back after it had been knocked out of him. They were touching everywhere, their hard cocks pressed into each other's stomachs. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry as the Gobi.

John stared at his mouth.

Rodney licked his lips, and John's tongue flicked out, mirroring the motion.

"Rodney," he choked out.

Rodney nodded, trying to find his own voice. "Yes," he managed, agreeing to anything and everything.

John leaned down. Rodney had half a second to swallow before John kissed him, and nothing else mattered. John's lips were as fabulous as they looked, and when John's tongue got into the picture it was even better. Rodney pushed up into the kiss, his neck straining as he pushed for more. He wrapped his hand around the back of John's neck, feeling warm skin and silky hair as he pulled John to him. John groaned and sucked on Rodney's lower lip. Rodney had to thrust up, had to press his hard cock into warmth and firm muscles. John pushed back against Rodney without hesitation, then he shifted his hips so that their cocks brushed against each other.

"Oh god," he cried out. He hadn't done anything like this since undergrad, and his memories were nowhere near this good. John was whimpering and moaning like he was out of control as he bit at Rodney's neck, and his hips never stopped moving.

"Rodney," John whispered.

They were both sweating like crazy. His hands slid across John's back and he grabbed onto John's ass, pulling him closer. They thrust together in a fast rhythm, cheeks pressed together, John's hot breath panting into his ear. John buried his face in Rodney's neck and groaned, and then there was more hot wetness between them. John had come all over him. Rodney's cock felt huge, pulling in every touch like electricity. He shoved up one more time and he came, his muscles clenching and his heart pounding so hard he couldn't hear. Come poured out him in wave after wave until he had nothing left, his cock twitching with the aftershocks.

"Oh yeah," John said, and licked his neck.

Rodney gasped for breath and loosened his grip on John's ass. John lifted his head and smiled. "You okay?"

Rodney nodded. He was more than okay. He was fabulous. He was...going to get his ass kicked, and not in the fun way. The thought must have occurred to John, too, because they turned their heads at the same time, looking for Teyla.

She was stretched on her side beside them, her head propped on one hand, one leg drawn up as she worked the other hand rhythmically between her legs. She licked her lips as her eyelids drooped, and Rodney's cock twitched again. She started making breathy little moans that got faster and faster with the speed of her hand, until she was groaning continuously and her hand was moving furiously. Then she all but stopped, her breath catching, and she opened her eyes as she tossed her head with a long, low grunt.

"Whoa," John said quietly, a perfect surfer impression. Rodney would have teased him about it, but he couldn't take his eyes off Teyla as she started in on the second round. He shifted a little under John's weight, hissing as John's softened cock brushed against his own, still sensitive. John shifted to the side, keeping a leg across Rodney's as he propped his head up to watch the show.

Teyla had rolled over onto her back. Her breasts were bouncing with every movement of her hand. Rodney reached out and pulled on her nipple. She shrieked and curled upwards, moaning and shuddering as he played with her, until finally she dropped back down with a gasp. Teyla caught his wrist.

"So, not mad then?" he asked.

She was still panting as she turned her head, eyes rolling. John chuckled and rubbed his foot over Rodney's calf and his hand over Rodney's chest. Arousal shot through Rodney, arcing from his nipples to his cock, pushing him to explore as he realized he could. He stroked John's throat, then the dark hair that covered his pale chest. It was silky and damp with sweat, and as he moved down to John's stomach, slippery with come.

John whimpered and kissed him. Soft lips and tongue, such soft kisses, too soft, and his stomach clenched up a little even though this was just John. No, **because** he was kissing John–-John, whom he'd carefully not watched and not wondered about for a year; John, who was his best friend in two galaxies; John, whom he'd almost lost more times than he wanted to remember. Rodney deepened the kiss out of desperation, turning it forceful and passionate. Passion was good, much better than soft. He found John's cock and started exploring as John groaned into his mouth.

Then Teyla was there, her small hands playing with his own cock. He broke away from John and she took over, sucking on John's lower lip before biting it. Rodney reached for John's balls, cupping and fondling them the best he could with his arm trapped between Teyla's breasts and John's chest. He wasn't complaining. In fact, he pretty much thought he might have found heaven.

* * *

For the fourth morning in a row, John woke wrapped around Rodney. He'd never been this much of a cuddler before, but since they'd started this...thing, it was like he couldn't get enough touch, even in his sleep. He was pretty sure that he was all over Teyla during the night as well, but she was always gone by the time he woke up. He felt a little guilty at always seeking out the middle, but neither of them had complained yet.

He pressed his face into Rodney's neck, smelling salt and sweat as the curling hair tickled his nose. Rodney's skin was as soft as Teyla's, though he'd never tell either of them that. No, Rodney wasn't a woman, but John's body didn't seem to care about that. He responded as strongly to Rodney as he did to Teyla, and his mind was surprisingly okay with that. Every time those voices started in–calling him fag, cocksucker, fudgepacker–he reminded himself that it didn't matter what anyone thought, not anymore.

Rodney's belly was perfectly soft under his hand. John rubbed his thumb through the hair around the belly button. He could hear the slight rasp, the way the hair crinkled over smooth skin and relaxed again. They'd talked some, the first morning after. Rodney had done the man thing before. John wasn't quite sure what to think about that; jealousy was hiding somewhere in his emotions, but mostly he thought it was good that he hadn't pushed Rodney into something he wasn't comfortable with.

He pressed in closer, running his hand upwards, sneaking under Rodney's arm to touch Rodney's chest. He licked at the back of Rodney's neck, smiling when he felt Rodney wake up. John squeezed him quickly before moving his arm and backing off slightly. Rodney yawned, then rolled over.

"God, I miss coffee," he said, his eyes still mostly closed and his voice sleep-deep.

John chuckled. "It's good for you, Rodney. Makes you less contentious."

Rodney opened one eye disdainfully. "I highly doubt it. And are you always in this good of a mood first thing in the morning?"

He smiled. "That depends on whether I got laid the night before."

He waited, fascinated as Rodney's lips twitched up and down before settling into a self-satisfied grin. "There is that, yes. Though that makes me wonder why you were so perky in some of those morning briefings–ow!"

John raised his eyebrows, though the innocent act was probably spoiled by the fact that his teeth were still resting on Rodney's shoulder. He licked and then pulled back. "Problem?"

Rodney tweaked his nipple. John jumped and slapped a protective hand over his endangered flesh.

"Hey!"

Rodney smirked and rolled into him, pushing John flat on his back. "You are such a hypocrite," he said, and before John could protest, Rodney kissed him. The morning breath wasn't too bad, not once they got into it. His cock tried to get into it as well, but he wasn't even half-hard despite everything. At least Rodney was in a similar state.

"I think we've broken my dick," he whined.

Rodney snorted into his neck. "I'm sure it will recover. We just need to build up stamina, like any type of exercise, right?"

John nodded. "Maybe Teyla has some Athosian cure."

"Hmmm," Rodney said. "Maybe a resuscitation technique? Mouth to cock?"

"That sounds about right," he agreed. Rodney shifted his weight to the side, but he was still mostly on top of John. It felt really good to just lay there, holding each other. He ran his hand up and down Rodney's back, trying to come up with something witty to add.

"Have you noticed she seems weird about this during the day?" Rodney asked, his words tumbling oddly into their calm silence.

John frowned. "You mean–" and he gestured between the two of them.

Rodney shook his head. "No, I mean she's not touchy-feely, not like most women are when you first start dating them. Until it's time for bed."

He thought about it. "She seems okay with kissing us hello, but you're right. I think she was startled by it that first time."

"Maybe we've tripped over some cultural taboo? I don't really remember seeing the other Athosians showing affection. Except, you know,"

John nodded. "The forehead thing. I don't know. We should probably just ask her."

"Like the name thing," Rodney agreed. "That worked out well enough."

John poked him in the belly. "She's not the only one who has weird name issues."

Rodney grabbed his finger. "What is it with you and pain? Is this some kink I don't want to know about?"

John tried to pull his finger free, and Rodney tried to hang on. They tussled half-heartedly for a minute before they both gave up in favor of being lazy, leaving their index fingers hooked together. "You didn't answer my question," he said.

"What question? You simply made a statement which was so ridiculous I made no effort to refute it. Now if you'd like to ask an actual question, the general accepted method in the English language is to use a rising intonation at the end of the expression. Do you understand?" he asked, exaggerating his tone.

John resisted the urge to smack the smug look off of Rodney's face. Barely. He tried to remember exactly what he had said so he could argue the point, but gave it up. It obviously wasn't that important. "Anyway. You want to talk to Teyla, or should I?"

Rodney sighed. "Was there a point where we actually turned into yentas, or was that one of those gradual changes I didn't notice?"

"You want to draw straws?" John asked, half-joking, but Rodney stiffened and pulled away. "What?"

Rodney sat up, shaking his head. "I'll do it. Don't worry about it."

John grabbed Rodney by the wrist before he could stand. "Hey. What's up? I'll talk to her, it's not like I'm afraid of asking her some questions."

Rodney's jaw clenched, then he rubbed a hand over his eyes and settled back down beside John. "It's nothing, really. You just reminded me of something."

Something bad, obviously, but he didn't push. He did vow to never say anything about drawing straws ever again. He squeezed the back of Rodney's neck. It was kind of a novelty, really, to be able to do that. Simple touches that he'd always denied himself. Just for the hell of it, he pulled Rodney forward into a kiss, soft and unpressured. He couldn't read Rodney's eyes when he broke away, but they made him want to say stupid things. He swallowed the tightness in his throat and pushed himself up.

"Why don't we both talk to her," he said. He offered Rodney a hand up. "And maybe take a bath."

"That reminds me, I want to work on a shower system," Rodney said as he started getting dressed. John pretty much just watched his ass. "If only we had solar panels, I could heat the water easily enough."

Rodney talked the entire time they were getting dressed, as they walked out of the hut, while each of them took a turn in the latrine, and during the walk across the yard to where Teyla was working on the chicken coop. John nodded and responded as was more or less necessary, but mostly he watched Rodney, enjoying seeing him revel in a challenge. Rodney hadn't had that luxury in a while; everything here was so survival-oriented. John smiled and gave in to the urge to bump shoulders as they walked. Rodney didn't seem to mind, bumping back every now and then.

Teyla glanced up at them, but immediately went back to tying the frame together. John frowned. He wondered if she thought they were being lazy. Which, admittedly, they were, but it wasn't like the work wasn't going to get done. He just didn't see the need to get up at dawn to do it. Plus, it was kind of nice to be able to linger in bed after a life-altering change for once.

Rodney broke off as they stopped, mid-sentence as if he'd suddenly remembered what they were doing. He rocked in place, snap-popping his fingers once before he crossed his arms behind his back.

"Hey, Teyla," John said, trying for casual–and failing, judging by the way she looked up at them suspiciously.

"Yes?" she asked.

John smiled at her. "We were just wondering if we had offended you in some way. Broken some taboo we didn't know about. And if we did, what we can do to fix the problem."

Teyla sat back on her heels, pressing her palms against her thighs. "You have not offended me."

"Ah. Okay, then." John stood there uncertainly.

"It's just that you've been a bit withdrawn," Rodney said, tackling the problem head on. That would have been John's next step, of course. "Physically, anyway. Compared to what we're used to. And we thought maybe that was a cultural difference."

Teyla stood up, her head cocked to the side in puzzlement. "Are you not pleased with our sexual encounters?"

"No, we're very pleased," John rushed in.

Rodney nodded emphatically. "Very, very pleased. Don't get us wrong. Please, don't get us wrong."

"It's just that you're not open to affection during the day," John tried to explain. "Or it doesn't seem that way to us."

Teyla nodded slowly. "I think I see. You wish for morning sex?"

Rodney had the nerve to laugh. John glared at him for a second before turning back to Teyla. "Well it might be nice every now and then, but no, that's not what I meant. I meant hugging and kissing, and casually touching each other during the day. It's fine if you don't want to do that, we were just trying to understand, that's all."

Teyla smiled widely, then she started to laugh. He glanced at Rodney, who looked just as puzzled as he felt. John smiled, caught by her amusement.

"I am sorry," she said, catching her breath, giggles bursting up occasionally. "But my people frequently share affection with each other."

Rodney nodded beside him. "Yes, the forehead thing. Do you want us to do that more often?"

That started her off again. Rodney looked at him, he looked at Rodney. No enlightenment to be had between them.

She waved her hand in the air as she calmed down. "We share touches, and hug, and kiss. We tend not to do so in front of others, but obviously that is not a concern here."

"Okay," John said slowly. "So I'm missing something."

"I believe it is my fault," she said, still looking amused. "I did not want to interfere with your new bond. Perhaps I took it too far."

"Oh," Rodney said. "That's, uh, very considerate."

For some reason, John blushed. He could feel it start in his neck and creep up his face, and the more he thought about how ridiculous it was, the more he blushed. He hadn't blushed since boot camp. Obviously, his mind was still hiding some issues with the guy thing.

"I am sorry," Teyla said, serious now. "I did not mean to embarrass you."

Which of course made Rodney look at him. John avoided looking at either of them and concentrated on getting his brain, at least, under control.

"That's fascinating," Rodney murmured, like he was a new scientific curiosity.

"Rodney," Teyla chided. She stepped forward and stroked a hand over John's cheek. "I think it is most attractive," she said, then brushed her lips across his.

"Oh, I wasn't saying it's not," Rodney said. He ran his hand across the back of John's neck, and then John wasn't really worrying about the blush any more. Maybe they'd get around to asking Teyla about Athosian remedies.

* * *

Aiden quickly tapped the stinger against the colonel's neck, then did the same to Dr. McKay. The stinger was another fun little something he'd managed to pick up on his last doctor's visit. He sat back and waited, giving it time to kick in.

Sheppard was spooned up behind McKay, skin to skin. Aiden wasn't surprised. Those two had always been kind of weird about each other. It looked like Teyla was naked, too. Her fine, fine shoulders were completely bare, nothing covering her neck or the strip of back he could see above the covers. She was pressed up against the colonel's back. Looked liked they'd all gotten cozy while he was off kicking Wraith ass.

Aiden reached out, got a warm handful of her skin as he grabbed her shoulder. He shook her lightly and her forehead wrinkled. He'd only given her a third of the dose; she should be able to shake it off for a little while.

"Teyla," he called softly. "Wake up. Come on, Teyla."

Her eyes shifted under the lids. Then her eyelids snapped open. "Aiden?" He pulled his hand away, and she rolled onto her back. He looked away from the curves of her upper breasts.

"Hey Teyla," he said. "Long time no see."

"Are you all right?" She sounded groggy. She struggled to sit up while keeping the sleeping bag clutched to her chest.

"I'm fine," he told her. She was making it hard to keep his eyes up, but he managed. "I just need to tell you some stuff."

She looked over at the colonel and McKay. He grabbed her wrist as she reached toward Sheppard.

"Don't bother. They won't wake up till morning."

She turned back fast, her eyes glittering in the dim light like a cat's. "What did you do to them?"

"Nothing much. Just a little something to keep them quiet for a while. I don't want the colonel shooting me again."

Teyla turned her hand over in his grasp, circling his wrist with her slim fingers. "He is so very sorry," she said. "But it was the only solution at the time."

"A bullet?" Aiden asked incredulously. "Yeah, I don't think so." He shut up, clenching his jaw against the anger. He focused on what he was there for. "But that's the thing, see? 'Cause I can tell I don't think straight anymore, especially when it comes to the colonel. He just sets me off, and I know that's not right."

"Aiden," Teyla said softly, squeezing his wrist.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything. I'm good right now. It gets bad right before I get the juice, and right after. Like 'roid rage."

"I'm sorry," she said.

He shrugged. "It's not so bad. I've blown up more Wraith than you can imagine. That's cool."

She looked worried. "That's why I'm here, though," he told her. "When you guys first got here I thought you could help me, but I finally figured out this is a solo mission."

"Aiden."

He shushed her with a finger to her lips. "It's okay. I finally remembered that you guys have other stuff to do, though. So when you wake up tomorrow, look in the pack by the door." He grinned at her. "It's a present."

"You need to come back to us. Let us take you to Dr. Beckett."

He shook his head. "I think it's too late for that. Listen, tell the colonel I'm sorry about the misunderstanding. And tell him he's the best commander I've ever served under, even if he did shoot me."

"Don't do this, Aiden."

He looked past her, not wanting to see the desperation in her eyes. "And you can tell the doc...Oh, I don't know. Tell him I owe him a game of prime not prime."

She looked very confused. "Prime not prime?"

"You got it, girl." He slid his arm back against her grip so that their hands met palm to palm. "I'll miss you."

"Aiden–"

He kissed her. She didn't move at all at first, and he figured she was shocked, but then she got into it a little. It was like heaven from the best Sunday sermon. He pulled back, brushing her hair from her cheek and laying his hand against her neck.

"Don't go," she said.

He smiled, happy that she'd asked, and then pressed the sticker into her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut. He eased her backwards, tucking the cover more securely over her. Then he left, glancing one last time at the package he'd left for them, just like Santa Claus.

* * *

Teyla woke suddenly, opening her eyes to streaming sunlight and the memory of a vivid dream. Aiden, waking her, telling her goodbye, leaving messages for John and Rodney–

She sat up as it occurred to her that she might not have dreamt it. John and Rodney were still asleep, and she reached out to shake John awake. He snorted slightly but didn't waken. She shook him again, calling his name, and he blinked at her with sleep-crusted eyes.

"What?"

"Are you all right?" she asked, remembering what Aiden had said about drugging them.

He yawned and nodded, but still seemed a little out of it. "What's up?"

She hesitated, wondering if perhaps she had imagined things after all. Instead of answering, she left the bed and walked to the door.

Aiden's pack was there.

"Wake Rodney," she said, her voice trembling slightly. She could hear them talking and moving behind her, but the noises faded from her consciousness as she unsnapped the buckles and loosened the draw string. There was a large bundle of cloth inside–Aiden's jacket–and she drew it out carefully. She set it on the dusty floor, gently unwrapped the sleeves, and parted the halves. Four clear crystals glittered back at her.

"Hello," Rodney said from behind her shoulder. "Where did those come from? No, never mind, just let me have them."

He knelt down beside her, gently nudging her out of the way as he ran his hands gently over the crystals. He looked up with a smile.

"They don't look damaged. I just need to insert them and we can be off this rock."

Teyla stood.

"You want to explain what's going on, Teyla?" John asked.

"Aiden was here last night," she said.

"What?" John said, his voice dropping in disbelief. "You didn't wake us up?"

"Ford was here?" Rodney said as he stood up. "How?"

She shrugged. "I do not know how he entered without alerting us, but he drugged us all. He spoke to me, told me about the crystals. I do not think he intends to come back."

"Well, that explains the hangover," Rodney muttered.

John sighed and crossed his arms. "You didn't try to stop him?"

She shook her head, remembering her continued pleas, then the shock as he had kissed her. "I could not convince him. He drugged me before I could attempt to stop him physically."

"It's just as well," John said, shaking his head. "I'd rather you stayed safe. Ford's shown us over and over that we can't take him."

"He wanted me to tell you that you are the best commander he has ever served," she continued. She closed her eyes, trying to remember exactly what Aiden had said. "And he said to tell you, Rodney, that he owes you a game of prime not prime."

Rodney blinked. "What does that mean? Is that a coded message or something? Something about statistical anomalies?"

She shook her head. "I do not know. I believe he simply wanted to say goodbye."

"Huh," Rodney said.

"Maybe he figured it would keep you occupied for a while," John said. He looked thoughtful, as if he had resumed all of the burdens he had assumed before. Teyla wanted to tell him to stop, but it occurred to her that everything **had** changed.

"Yes, it's extremely interesting in a way that has no bearing on getting off this planet," Rodney said. "I'm going to get to work on the jumper. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves while I'm gone."

John grabbed his arm when Rodney started to bend down. "You might want to put some clothes on, first. Unless you're more of a nature boy than I'm remembering."

Rodney looked down at himself. "Right."

John met her eyes as Rodney began dressing. "If we leave, we leave Aiden behind," he said quietly. "There's no way they'll let us come back for him."

Teyla nodded. She couldn't think of anything to say, and her throat was tight as she acknowledged the finality of what she had already known. Losing Aiden wasn't like the quick, wrenching deaths of those taken by the Wraith. Her grief felt more like the lingering loss as her father wasted away over months. She tried to remind herself that Aiden was still alive, even if she never saw him again.

Rodney finished tying his shoe laces, but instead of immediately taking the crystals, he stepped forward, hesitantly laying a hand on her arm. She tried to smile, but it was weak and brief. He squeezed a little and let go, then turned to John.

"He hasn't given you any choice," Rodney said. "You know that, so don't you dare feel guilty."

John shook his head. "You know it's not that easy."

Rodney stared at him, his mouth tight, before he turned away and bent to the crystals. "This shouldn't take more than an hour. If you need me, you know where I'll be."

"Take your radio," John said.

Rodney grunted and did just that before he headed out. John turned away and began dressing. Teyla wasn't sure what to do or how to feel. They were going back to Atlantis, to her people, to all of the comforts so easily taken for granted. Yet they were also heading back into an impossible war.

She wondered what else they would be leaving behind.

She pulled on her clothes, not knowing what else to do. They had been going to test the next batch of plants today; that was one task she would be glad to be rid of. They hadn't eaten yet, so perhaps she should see to breakfast. Though if they left soon, there would be no point.

Frustrated, she tossed her shoe to the ground. John looked up, his eyebrows arched questioningly.

"And what of us?" she asked. "Will this continue, when we return, or is it another thing for you to feel guilty about?"

His face closed down, his jaw set and his eyes hard, and Teyla thought she had made a mistake. But there would be no better time for these questions.

"I don't even know what my status will be," John said. "If the team gets put back on active duty, then I can't in good conscience continue a relationship with anyone under my command."

Teyla sat down, feeling slightly sick. She had not really thought that he would say no. "I see," she said, trying to marshal her thoughts. "No. I do not see. Among my people bonds such as ours are to be treasured and guarded, for they strengthen us against the constant fear and worry. Yet you would pretend that this does not exist between us?"

John stood and paced the short length of the room a couple times before kneeling in front of the lantern and other supplies in the corner. He began sorting things into piles. She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to hit him.

"You don't understand how it is," he said, tossing their carefully guarded pack of matches on top of a rain poncho. "In my world, they say that women are equal to men, but everybody knows that's just something you have to say. God forbid that a woman can take care of herself, even if she's a soldier. They don't let women fight, did you know that?"

She shook her head numbly. She found his words hard to believe. There were a few women among the military contingent on Atlantis, though she had not interacted with them much. "But you have women in the military."

"Oh, yeah," John said. "Some damn good ones, too. That doesn't mean that they get the respect they deserve. And just one whiff that they're sleeping with their CO? Whatever respect they had goes down the tubes. They give you a hard enough time as it is, Teyla. I know there have been rumors, but I can handle rumors."

She shook her head. "So you will end this to protect me."

He looked her in the eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it's just safe from mean-spirited assholes."

"That is not your place."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

Teyla closed her eyes. She was angry enough to want to agree; she wanted to punish him for his stupidity, but that would accomplish nothing good. "And what of Rodney? Are you protecting his reputation as well?"

John laughed. It was a frightening sound, mean and almost crazy. "No, not Rodney's reputation. Rodney could care less what people think of him, as long as they think he's smart. But things aren't so nice if you're gay, Teyla. They also say they condemn violence in my country, but men still get beaten to death for having sex with other men."

The fury crested, heat pounding at the base of her neck as it looked for an outlet. It ebbed away as she realized that John was not her target. She felt sick. "Surely that would not happen on Atlantis."

"Probably not, but you never know. That's not the only thing, though. If the wrong people find out, then I'm gone. Out of the Air Force, shipped back to Earth."

Why was she still fighting? If she let it be, they would still see each other every day, still feel the same way about each other. There simply would not be any acknowledgment between them, none of the gentle intimacies that came with a physical connection. She had learned to live with compromise a long time ago.

But then, John Sheppard had been the one to teach her to never give up, even in the face of the impossible.

"Do you love him?" she asked.

John looked up from the package he had been toying with, his face shocked into more openness than before. He quickly looked away, focusing on a point somewhere in the shadows of the hut. "I don't know anything about love," he said.

She almost smiled. "I see." She crossed the room and knelt beside him. "And do you not know how you feel about me?"

She could see the muscles of his throat work, and she wondered if he would speak the truth. She had not even known the truth of her own feelings until now.

John turned to her, but he looked at the floor at her knees. "Teyla. You're you," he whispered.

That was good enough. She grasped his chin, pulling his head upwards so that she could see his eyes. "I have never known you to let fear stop you from doing anything," she said. "Do not start now."

She did not know if her words mattered. His eyes were reddened, the hazel irises muddy and dark. She let go of his chin, unable to take any more. He did not try to stop her when she stood and made her way outside.

She sat down on the sitting rock, gathering her knees to her chest. She felt like a child sulking over her first crush, but there was nothing more productive to do at the moment. So she sat and thought, and tried not to think, until a breeze blew up and the puddlejumper crested the trees. John came to the doorway, but she ignored him as she watched Rodney land in the small clearing. Rodney's face was triumphant when he emerged from the rear hatch.

"Nice landing," John said.

"Thanks, I thought so," Rodney said, grinning. "It's just like riding a bike. We ready to go?"

John went back inside without saying anything. Teyla hugged her knees tighter against the chill she felt. Rodney looked confused.

"Was it something I said?"

Teyla shrugged, and he frowned. He strode across the clearing and through the door with a determined look on his face. Teyla reluctantly followed him inside.

"Oh I get it," Rodney snapped at John's back. "I'm the bad guy because I'm able to see all the reasons to go back, and I'm not acting like the world's ending. Well, I'm sorry–we do need to go back. They need us, in case you had forgotten. This isn't just about Ford. Do you remember Elizabeth? Carson, maybe? They care about us, for some strange reason, and until an hour ago I thought I'd never see them again, so yes, I'm eager to go back."

John straightened, his back rigid, but he didn't turn or say anything.

"I'm sorry if I'm not worked up about Ford. I wish this had never happened to him. He was a good kid, and a friend, but I've lost too many friends this past year. If I–" He stopped, closing his eyes as he swallowed. Teyla stepped forward, but she didn't reach out to him. She didn't know if she could. "The important part is he's still alive, and he obviously doesn't want our help, so I can't be bothered to dwell on it."

John turned around. "I don't think you're the bad guy, Rodney," he said softly. "You're right."

Rodney blinked, looking confused again. "I am? Then what is this all about?"

"The colonel does not believe it will be appropriate to continue our relationship," Teyla told him when John said nothing. "He thinks it is improper, and will endanger us."

"That's ridiculous," Rodney spat.

John stepped forward, moving deep into Rodney's space so that they were face to face. "It's not ridiculous. I thought you'd at least be able to see the reasons why, Mr. Doom and Gloom."

Rodney waved his hand. "Yes, military policies and all that. We're all reasonably intelligent adults, some of us more than others, we should be able to work around that. What's the real reason, John? Is it the gay thing? Or is it that we're only good enough to fuck when we're the last choice you have?"

"Don't do this, Rodney. You know that's not true."

Teyla found herself readying as for battle. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Rodney crossed his arms over his chest, bumping into John as he did so. John did not back away.

"Do I? Because that's what it looks like to me." He glanced over at Teyla, but she had nothing to add. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

John reached up and pushed a little on Rodney's chest. "Why do you?"

Rodney dropped his arms, pushed against John's chest. "Because I happen to think you're worth it, you jarhead."

"I'm not a jarhead," John growled, and then he grabbed the back of Rodney's neck and pulled him into a kiss. Rodney flailed for a moment before his hands came up to steady himself on John's shoulders, kissing back. Teyla stared, surprised but very happy with the shift of the argument.

Rodney pulled back just a little, panting. "You know, we don't have to leave right away."

John kissed him lightly before looking at her. He held out his hand. "Teyla?"

She did not know whether this was a goodbye or a new beginning, but she was not going to waste the opportunity by worrying. She took his hand and let him pull her to them. John kissed her hard, hard enough that her lips felt sore, but she pushed into it, wanting everything he would give her. Rodney's hands circled her waist, unbuttoning her pants and lowering the zipper, working them over her hips. He knelt to take off her shoes as she tugged at John's shirt, breaking away from his mouth long enough to get it over his head. She pulled off her own top, but was arrested in mid-throw as Rodney nipped at her buttocks.

"I love this spot," he said, licking along the top of her thigh just as John palmed her breasts. Teyla whimpered. Rodney moved higher, to the crest of her hips. "But this spot is my favorite," he said, and bit just hard enough to send tickling shocks up her spine and down her leg. She grabbed at John, pushing up against his warm strength as Rodney teased her with his tongue.

John steadied her, then stepped away to strip off his shoes and his pants. Then he circled around behind her. She did not see what he did, but Rodney stood up, releasing his strong hold on her hips. She turned around to find John undressing Rodney as Rodney ran his hands all over John's skin, tweaking his nipples and stroking his erection when they got close enough to reach. John knelt to pull off Rodney's shoes, and she found herself aching with the beauty of them together.

Rodney had his hands on John's shoulders, and she could mark the moment John took Rodney into his mouth by the way Rodney's eyelids slid closed and his mouth dropped open. She crouched down behind John, pressing her nipples against his warm back as she slid a hand down the smooth hard muscle of his buttock and forward to cup his balls. They were tight already, crinkled and so soft against her hand that she felt the tingling touch of them all the way to her elbow. She gave them a gentle tug and John lifted his head with a gasp. Rodney whined just a little.

"Do not finish him," she said, pitching her voice low and seductive. "I have plans for both of you."

She stood and took them each by the hand, pulling them toward the bed. Goodbye or new beginning, she would have this. She and Rodney wound up on either side of John, and they began by kissing him all over, painting his skin with kisses and caresses. But Teyla was too impatient; she nudged Rodney aside and straddled John.

"Do not touch yourself," she told Rodney. Before either of them could question her, she grabbed John's erection and guided it into herself. She gasped and moaned, her breath uncertain in her lungs as the pleasure overwhelmed her.

"Teyla," John groaned. "We can't."

She panted for a moment with her head down. "It is safe enough," she said, and then began to move. John was exquisite inside of her, around her, his hips lifting just right as his hands glided over her hips. Then he grabbed her, stilled her motion, and rolled. She wrapped her legs around him and let him take her over, and then he was moving again, pounding into her from above. She was peripherally aware of Rodney's hands touching them, moving down John's back before John's head snapped up. She stared into his eyes, wild and desperate and needing, and as she came she knew that she had him. He groaned moments later; she could feel his cock pulsing and throbbing as he came. He slumped downwards, and with some quick effort she rolled them again.

She kissed John gently, lazily, as he slipped out of her. She raised up on her knees, still straddling John, and glanced back at Rodney. "Well, Doctor? What are you waiting for?"

"Oh, Jesus," he said, his voice cracking a little. He scooted up between John's thighs and ran a hand over her back, sliding down to touch her ass and lips. Teyla shivered, still very sensitive and needful, and tilted her hips. He slipped a finger inside of her.

"Please," she said, pushing against him. He pulled his finger out and then pushed his cock in. She cried out, feeling strangely like she had won something. It felt different than when John had first entered her–she was already stretched and sensitized–but it was just as good.

Rodney grabbed her hips, and she grabbed on to John's shoulders in preparation. John smiled up at her, his eyebrow quirking knowingly. She started to smile back at him, but then Rodney started moving and all she could do was gasp and hang on. John ran his hands up her stomach to her breasts, pinching her nipples. Rodney hammered into her from behind, and she could not stop her cries, half-voiced and continuous as her whole body wound beyond her control. She shrieked as she came again, drowning out Rodney's stuttering cries as he slammed into her a final time and held on through his own orgasm.

Teyla's arms were shaking, so she eased forward onto John, Rodney laying on top of her. John grunted but wrapped his arms around both of them. He kissed her cheek as she caught her breath.

"Oh, god, that was hot," Rodney said somewhere behind her left ear.

"No kidding," John said, then he squirmed a bit. "But heavy. Do you guys mind?"

Rodney moved off of her and tucked into John's side, drawing her over so she was half on top of him and half on John. He kissed John's shoulder, then her forehead. "I'm thinking we should probably leave the sleeping bag behind," he said.

John laughed, shaking beneath her, and Teyla smiled as she snuggled in closer to them.

* * *

Rodney paused with his hand over the dialing console. They were cloaked, but they hadn't seen any sign of Wraith. He glanced over at John, looking serious and grim, and then back at Teyla, standing between them, her hands gripping the backs of their seats tightly. They hadn't spoken of it again, but he was pretty sure things were going to be all right between them all. The question now was how they were going to be received back on Atlantis.

He reached up and squeezed Teyla's hand. She smiled at him, and touched John's shoulder. John nodded to him. Rodney dialed the gate.

"Sending IDC through," he said.

"Atlantis, this is jumper one," John said into the radio. "Requesting permission to come home."

There was a long wait, long enough to make all sorts of horrible scenarios tie his stomach into knots. He was sure that something awful had happened, that Atlantis had been destroyed by the Wraith, or they had managed to blow themselves up without his oversight.

"John, is that you?" Elizabeth said, and Rodney was so relieved he felt light-headed.

"Affirmative," John answered. "Rodney and Teyla are right beside me."

The radio was silent again. The message was obvious; they had failed at bringing Ford back.

"All right, jumper one, we've lowered the shield. We can't wait to see you again."

John reached out, touched Teyla's hand on his shoulder before he reached for Rodney, and then he guided the jumper into the gate.

* * *

Aiden watched as the fire licked at the rafters of the hut. It would all collapse inward soon. He wondered if it would burn the stone itself, but he didn't plan on sticking around to find out. He fingered the Athosian lighter one last time, then stuck it into the pocket of his cammies. He headed towards his ship, dry-eyed as always these days.

Just one more thing he could thank the Wraith for.

END


End file.
